Aftermath
by princegeorge
Summary: Dr Clarkson has to bring Mrs Crawley the worst of messages. Set between S 3 and 4
1. Chapter 1

Aftermath ch 1

**A/N This story takes place between seasons 3 and 4. NIWMAL suggested it, just when the plot bunnies left me. Thank you, sweetie! Hope you like it. **

-o-o-o-o-o-

There wasn't much blood. It had disappeared in the soil. The scene looked rather peaceful actually, he noticed with a strange feeling of pain. The young man was lying on his back, his right arm stretched out, his face cold and white, eyes open and a faint smile still gracing his features. The car, one of those modern speeding monsters was crumbled up face down in the shallow ditch. He just stood there, watching the corpse. You stupid man, you stupid man, you stupid, stupid young man, he scolded wordless. Your wife, your son, your mother…

He knelt down and examined the body. His hand slid around the victim's neck, and reaching up he felt a sticky mess of blood, fragments of smashed skull and soft tissue spilling through. The young man must have died instantly. Poor, poor man. At least he hadn't suffered. Oh, but suffered he had enough in the trenches during the war… Imagine surviving a hell like that and then die in a silly car crash. He wiped his hands on the wet grass and got to his feet.

His mind was already going over all the things that needed to be done, the racket and noise from above didn't fully reach him. No one disturbed him, they all assumed he was doing his job and in a way he was. Not with this body though. The accident had been hours ago and he didn't need to seek for a cause of death, it was obvious. But he had known this young man and he knew his wife and his family.

Back on the road, police were trying to question the very upset lorry driver, who was shaking and barely able to speak. I have to see to him, he thought and went to the policemen. 'Take him to the hospital, tell the nurses to put him to bed and give him an injection. I will see him tomorrow,' he instructed. 'Very well sir,' the policeman nodded.

'Dr Clarkson, may we... bring the body to the Abbey?' a trembling voice asked. He turned his head and looked in the teary eyes of Tom Branson. Next to him stood two farmers and a young lad he thought one of the Abbey's footmen. 'We have a car Dr Clarkson, we can take his body home,' Branson said. He smiled at the men. 'You may, but I have to apply a bandage first.'

He had bandages in his bag but they wouldn't do; the brains and blood would soak them within minutes. Rummaging in the boot he found a towel and a dirty sheet, tore it in strips and bandaged the young man's head.

'You may take him away now,' he said.

He watched while the men carefully lay the body on a makeshift stretcher and carried it in their car. They had to leave a door open, but would be able to transport him.

'Mr Branson? Do you happen to know where the family are?' he asked the young man.

'His Lordship and Lady Grantham are with Lady Mary in the hospital,' Tom answered.

'And Mrs Crawley?'

'I don't know, sir.'

**TBC**

**A/N please let me know what you think….x george**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**A/N A sad tale indeed… thanks for your support, all you lovely readers! **

-o-o-o-o-o-

Branson was a good lad. The best. Dr Clarkson knew he had been very close to the victim and he knew taking care of the body would be something he would wish to do for his friend. He trusted the young men to transport the body to the House and instructed them how to handle it. 'I will come and take care of him later, but first I have to visit the family,' he told them.

Tom nodded and they left their separate ways.

With a heavy heart he entered the maternity ward, where he found Lady Mary and Lady Grantham sobbing in each other's arms. Lord Grantham stood by the window, his face white and drawn.

'Milord.'

The Earl didn't turn around.

'Please Clarkson, tell us it's all been a mistake,' he whispered.

'It is not, milord. It was a horrible accident and Mr Crawley died instantly. There was nothing anyone could do. I am so very sorry, milord.'

Lord Grantham sighed and turned to look at his wife and daughter. 'My poor, girl, my poor little girl…,' he whispered. 'How can she survive this Clarkson? The happiest moment in her life, only to be followed by the most horrifying…how will she get on? Can anyone survive such an ordeal?'

Dr Clarkson was wise enough not to answer that rhetorical question and he remained silent. Lord Grantham sighed heavily once again and then suddenly turned to face him directly.

'Dr Clarkson, I must ask you to go and see Mrs Crawley. She had only just left before this message reached us, she went to visit a friend first and I believe she doesn't know yet….you see, I didn't want her to receive the news by telephone… I have to stay here with my girls, so would you please…go over to Crawley house and take care of her?'

'I will, milord,' he answered.

'Thank you, doctor.'

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was dark when he reached Crawley House. Not many lights were on and the maid that opened the door for him informed him that Mrs Crawley hadn't come home yet, but she was expected to return soon. He had asked to wait for her, was brought to the small library and accepted a kindly offered cup of tea.

And so he sat there, waiting for Mrs Crawley to return home and feeling more miserable by the minute when he thought about what he was to tell her. Lord Grantham didn't know what he had asked, what he had really asked from him. During their years of working together at the hospital, he had acknowledged her as a very competent nurse. Member of the board she was, but she did not find it beneath her to put on an apron and do humble and filthy work on the wards when they were understaffed. 'I need to work there, I have to know what goes on,' she had explained. And the nursing staff loved her for that, he had noticed. A member of the board that actually knew what they were facing daily. Mrs Crawley proved to be an independent character as well, and even though they had clashed on many occasions, he had to admit that quite a lot of times she had been right in her unorthodox view. Her opinions, which she clearly voiced whether he wanted it or not, had been a wakeup call for him at times, making him realise he was set in his ways. He had been grateful for that and he had grown to like her, allowing her to push him into more modern views. And while she was stubborn and sometimes didn't know when to stop, he appreciated her even more for that. She strongly supported the women's rights movement, and even when he never d said so, he agreed with them.

So he had grown to like her and some time ago he had to admit to himself he had grown to love her. Clarkson, you stupid fool, he had scolded himself many, many times already, knowing a woman like that would never look at him twice, but there it was.

He loved her.

He loved her, and now he had been appointed to bring her the most horrifying news a mother could receive. And to her, he would always be the man that shattered her world.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**TBC if you have the time, leave a review…**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**A/N Thanks for your lovely reviews! More tears and unhappiness, I'm afraid…**

-o-o-o-o-

At Downton Abbey the downstairs staff, no exception, were brought to tears when Tom Branson and his helpers arrived with the remains of Matthew Crawley.

'Mr Carson. Where can we put him,' the young man asked.

'This way, Mr Branson,' the butler said and lead him to the Tudor room, the most elaborate of guests rooms.

They carefully lifted the corpse on the bed, making sure the makeshift bandage around his head remained in place. 'Dr Clarkson will be over to take care of him,' Tom said through his tears. They closed the curtains and spread out a clean sheet over the corpse, protecting it against insects.

'Very well Mr Branson. Is there anything I can do for you?' Mr Carson asked politely after they had arranged everything to perfection.

'I believe we've done all we could for now… but if it's not too much trouble, I would like a word with Mrs Hughes,' Mr Branson said.

The butler raised his eyebrows. 'Mrs Hughes?'

'Please, Mr Carson,' the former chauffeur smiled.

'Very well, you can wait in her sitting room while I send a maid to find her,' Mr Carson said, patting him on the shoulder, a gesture he never expected from the stern butler.

He was lead in her small parlour and paced around, feeling too stressed to sit down. Finally he heard footsteps approach, the door opened and the housekeeper came in, a look of concern on her kind face.

'Mr Branson, what can I do for you…' she said and he couldn't help himself. Tears pooled in his eyes and he fell into her arms, burying his face in her neck and crying like he had never done before. 'Matthew is dead,' he wailed, feeling utterly hopeless. 'I know, my dear lad,' the elderly woman whispered. She pulled him over to the settee, sat down and wrapped him in her arms, occasionally wiping her own eyes.

'What am I to do now… ' he moaned softly when he finally calmed down.

'You will know when the time comes,' she smiled at him. 'You will, my dear lad.'

'I don't know Mrs Hughes, it's all so…so unreal now, you know?'

'I understand, lad.'

He fished his handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his face and produced a watery smile.

'Thank you Mrs Hughes. I just didn't know who else to turn to,' he said a bit shy.

'It's all right, lad. You're welcome.' They rose from the settee, she smiled and straightened his waistcoat. 'Now, off with you or who knows what Mr Carson will think.' Tom chuckled and made for the door, then turned and gave her the warmest of smiles. 'My mum died when I was four,' he told her and with that cryptic message he slipped out before she could react.

Only minutes later Mr Carson entered, frowning at her teary eyes. 'What was that about?' he asked and gently stroke her cheek. 'The boy needed a talk,' she answered. 'You mean, he came to you for comfort,' he smiled and took her in his arms. 'Poor man, losing first his wife and now his best friend in the house. At least he's got you, Elsie.'

'Ach, don't be silly,' she protested.

'I mean it. You know how much you mean to him, don't you?'

'I believe he just told me,' she said with a smile. 'Please Charles, will you stay with me for a bit? I need a bit of comfort myself and so do you.'

'You're right love,' he admitted, so they sat down on the sofa and she curled up in his arms.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Sounds of car tires on the gravel woke him from his dreadful thoughts. The door opened, voices in the hall, the maid telling her she had a visitor. 'At this time? Really, who on earth…'

'It's Doctor Clarkson ma'am.'

The doctor calling at this time? She didn't understand, and she entered the library with a look of surprise.

'Dr Clarkson, did you come to congratulate me?' she said, smiling brightly.

'Mrs Crawley,' he said, feeling like the hangman, 'please sit down.' She did, surprised by his solemn voice, eyes a bit alarmed.

And he took a deep breath and told her. About the car, the speed and the bend. The lorry, the crash and the tree, the blood, the open eyes and the cold white skin…he told her her only child had died and she just sat there, eyes fixed on the mantelpiece, her face set in stone.

'Please Richard. No,' she whispered.

'I'm so sorry Isobel.'

She said nothing. Then she suddenly stood, grabbed the vase on the side table and threw it against the wall with all her force. She moved to the drinks table, took the carafes of scotch, port and sherry and smashed them against the white walls, all without saying a single word. The door flew open at the noise of breaking glass and the maid stood alarmed, but he waved her off.

Mrs Crawley stood silently, staring at the mess on the wall without seeing it.

'Isobel.'

'My Matthew! My boy!' she screamed and sank to her knees.

He knelt down beside her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

'Not my boy, not my boy, not my boy,' she kept whispering against his shoulder. They sat like that for a long time, until Dr Clarkson could no longer ignore his aching knees. He stood up, with some difficulty pulled her gently on her feet and brought her to the sofa. She sat down obediently and just stared into nothing, with dry, hard eyes.

'Isobel. Say something.'

'My boy is dead,' she stated.

'Yes, he is.'

He wasn't sure what to do. He'd expected tears, despair, anger, and he supposed all of it was there, and more, but apart from one cry and some throwing of glassware it was kept inside. To be honest, her reaction scared him a little. She had turned to stone, almost literally. He felt she should not be left alone and decided to stay with her. Who knew what would happen next, when she broke out of this state.

'Isobel, I am going to take you to your bed,' he said standing up from the sofa. She didn't react at all. He took her hand and just lead her to the door. She followed without protest. He found the maid in the hall and beckoned her over. She brought them to Isobel's bedroom.

'Janet, isn't it? Please Janet, take your mistress inside, undress her and put her to bed. She has had a terrible shock. Call me again when you're ready.' 'Yes doctor Clarkson,' the girl said, looking scared. 'It will be alright,' he tried to reassure her.

He headed downstairs to telephone the hospital where he'd be during the night and was met by the cook. 'A telephone call for you, Dr Clarkson,' she said.

He nodded his thanks, picked up the receiver and listened.

'Thank you. I'll be there as soon as possible,' he told the caller and put the receiver back.

Now what? Mrs Crawley couldn't be left alone with only the maid, and he had to see to the very young woman in labour. A breech baby, possibly other difficulties, no job for the midwife.

A deep sigh and some thinking later, he picked up the telephone again.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**TBC… please leave a review if you have the time.**


	4. Chapter 4

Aftermath chapter 4

**A/N Thank you for your lovely reviews! Sorry for the delay, I finished the chapter, read it over and decided it was rubbish, so here's the second version. Nothing belongs to me. **

-o-o-o-o-

It had taken him some effort to convince Mr Carson, but in the end he agreed. Meanwhile, Mrs Crawley was put to bed by her young housemaid, who was by no means a ladies maid and Dr Clarkson didn't forget to acknowledge that.

'Well done Janet, I know this is a new experience for you and I thank you for helping me. I have to go now but I've arranged help for you, so you will not be alone during the night.'

'A nurse?' Janet asked shyly. She had met some of the hospital nurses and felt a bit intimidated by their bossy ways.

'No, not a nurse, don't worry,' he reassured her. 'Ah, there's the taxi, will you stay here for a bit more? Thank you.'

Opening the front door he went to help Mrs Hughes out of the car and paid the driver.

'I'm glad to see you Mrs Hughes,' he smiled at her. 'You're much needed here, I hope Mr Carson isn't too shocked?' He took her bag and escorted her to the living room.

'Actually he agreed with you, it's just that no one really knows what's going to happen when and if the family return home. But since Mrs Crawley is family too, in the end he thought he could spare me,' she explained.

'I thought about sending for a nurse but I decided in her state, she'd probably be more comfortable having a familiar face around her. And if necessary you know how to give injections.' He had taught her many years ago, since she was usually the one in charge when Downton staff fell ill and he trusted her fully.

In a few words he described Mrs Crawley's present state. 'She's had a terrible shock and I really don't know what happens next. Young Janet has helped her to bed, I could hardly do that myself. Now Mrs Hughes, I know you two are friends of a sort…but do you know about her other children?'

She nodded. 'I believe I do, she told me after lady Sybil died. A stillborn boy and twin girls that died of scarlet fever when they were four.'

'That's right, I'm glad you know because that's why Matthew's death is even more…he was her only surviving child.'

'It must be the worst nightmare,' she whispered.

'It is, I'm sure and it's a good thing you know, she may talk or rant in her sleep about them. Now, let me show you to her room.'

Janet was more than relieved to see the Downton housekeeper and rushed down to prepare tea. Dr Clarkson left some final instructions and medication and then he left to see to the young woman in labour.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Hours later, in a shabby farmhouse he had to admit defeat again. The mother died due to blood loss, and the baby was so severely handicapped he was relieved she died one hour after her birth, although he would never admit that out loud. Both parents were teenagers, forced into marriage after a quick romp behind the shed resulted in pregnancy and the young man clearly did not know how to react or what to do. He was glad to have a competent district nurse at hand to take care of the confused lad. After last evening's turmoil this situation was more than he could handle.

'I'll manage, Dr Clarkson,' the nurse said and he smiled at her. 'Thank you nurse Jones.'

I would like a cup of coffee now, he thought when he climbed into his car and sagged down behind the wheel. No, I need a cup of coffee now. He checked his watch. Half past four; he still had to take care of Matthew's body but it was too early to wake the house. And Matthew was dead, the poor man wouldn't mind waiting a few hours, not anymore… while his mother was still alive. So he set out to Crawley House, knowing someone there would be awake. And, he had to be honest to himself, he just needed to see how Isobel was doing.

Parking his car he was surprised to see the door open before he could ring, and Janet's face appearing. 'I heard your car,' she simply stated.

'Have you slept at all?'

'Yes, it's just that Mrs Hughes rang me half an hour ago to assist her with the injection. Mrs Crawley was very restless, she had been before but now she had a crisis Mrs Hughes said. She has calmed down now, Mrs Hughes is still with her. She told me to get some rest but I couldn't sleep.'

'You're a big help Janet. I will go see to them in a minute but now you're awake, would you mind brewing me a cup of coffee?' he asked.

'Of course Dr Clarkson,' the girl answered and went to the kitchen.

Dr Clarkson sat down on the sofa in the hallway and had almost fallen asleep when Janet brought him a steaming cup of coffee, the scent alone picking him up.

'Thank you my dear,' he said and noticed she had brought a small cup for herself. 'It was leftover,' she said. He smiled at her and patted the seat beside him.

'Sit down, Janet. You deserve a break. You have done much more than your duty this night and I am sure Mrs Crawley appreciates that,' he told her while they both enjoyed their coffee. 'I know Mrs Hughes and myself do. Now I suggest you go to bed and sleep for a few hours more. I will see to the ladies and the cook can take care of anything needed in the morning.'

Thank you sir,' the girl said and left.

Dr Clarkson got up and went to the bedroom, not sure what he would find there. What he did find surprised him to no end but also warmed his heart.

Isobel Crawley was asleep, breathing calmly and looking peaceful, curled up in Elsie Hughes' arms, who lay beside her, also sleeping.

He smiled and sat down in the easy chair next to the bed, intending to observe Isobel, but falling asleep within minutes.

-o-o-o-o-

'Oh, dear heavens,' a female voice whispered in alarm.

Dr Clarkson woke from his slumber and looked in Elsie Hughes' eyes.

'Good morning Mrs Hughes,' he smiled at her.

'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Dr Clarkson I don't know what to say! Oh, I never…'

He cut her off. 'Mrs Hughes, it looks like you did the right thing,' he said gently. 'Why don't you tell me what happened?'

Isobel didn't wake due to her injection, and Mrs Hughes reported.

'She slept very restless, waking up with a start and then fell asleep again. Around four she woke up crying, very upset, wanting to go out and calling for her babies. She said she had to take care of Jane and Julia, her girls you know... it looked like she had gone back to the past, not a word about Matthew… very strange. I couldn't calm her down and I asked Janet to help me give her an injection. She relaxed a bit but she couldn't stop crying and she knew I was there, she asked me to help… Elsie help me, please Elsie help me.' Tears sprang in her eyes. 'but I could not help her and so I just got in and held her until she fell asleep.'

'That's why I wanted you here instead of a nurse,' he told her, smiling fondly. 'You did exactly the right thing and I believe you have guided her through the worst. Please don't be embarrassed, Mrs Hughes. Being close, physically close to a dear friend was what she needed and I can't…' he cut himself off, feeling uncomfortable.

Mrs Hughes carefully entangled herself from Mrs Crawley's still sleeping form.

'Oh, you will in time,' she said careless and he felt his neck flush.

'Now, it is eight o'clock and I gave her the injection at four thirty. She'll sleep for a few hours more.' She climbed out of the bed, realising she was in her nightgown and blushed.

'I apologise for my present state Dr Clarkson,' she said, reaching for Mrs Crawley's dressing gown.

'No need Mrs Hughes, I am a doctor. But since you're en dishabille, how about I go to the kitchen and fetch us some tea and toast? I sent Janet to bed when I arrived around five or so, but the cook should be around and she'll want to know how her lady is.'

She nodded and while he was away, she dressed.

Over breakfast in the dining room they discussed their charge.

'What do you think about her wanting to go care for her girls?' Mrs Hughes asked him curiously.

'I have no idea,' he had to admit. 'Perhaps thinking about Matthew hurt too much so her mind fled to a lesser pain, lesser because it is older. I don't know, I suppose I'll do some research about that sometime. It is an interesting symptom from a medic's point of view, however heartbreaking it must have been for you to have to watch that. Do you think you can handle looking after Mrs Crawley for a bit more? We don't know what to expect when she wakes up. I have to go to the hospital and check on poor lady Mary, and fetch a nurse to help me take care of Mr Crawley's body.'

'I'll be fine,' she said. 'Only I don't know what Mr Carson will think, or her Ladyship.'

'Don't worry,' he assured her, 'I'll take care of that. Thank you again Mrs Hughes. Janet will be here soon, I told her to take a few extra hours.'

'She is a brave girl and a good help.'

'That she is. I'll be back this afternoon.'

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N I just couldn't leave Elsie out! She's too sweet. Also, while watching S4E1, I thought it a little bit bold for a housekeeper to pick a stranger from the workhouse and then ask an Earl's relative to take hem in her home. However good her intentions were! What do you think? **

**Anyway, I decided that Isobel and Elsie were friends before that, I quite like Elsie/Isobel friendship and it worked nice for the fic. **


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**A/N Well, I suppose you expect more sadness… and here it is. **

-o-o-o-o-o-

Feeling a bit better after his few hours of sleep, breakfast and the quiet conversation with Mrs Hughes, Dr Clarkson climbed in his car and drove to the hospital.

In the maternity ward the nurse reported that the baby was doing well and Lady Mary's body was recovering from giving birth as it should. No wonder, the good news ended there. Lord Grantham had gone home around midnight but the Countess had stayed with her daughter; Lady Mary could not stop crying and had begged her mother not to leave her alone. A second bed had been moved into the room for her. They had fallen asleep around five, after being given something to sleep and relax, and were still sleeping now. Meanwhile Mary's baby was nursed by another young mother who had plenty to spare.

The staff at the maternity ward were competent and accurate, and after leaving some instructions he went to find nurse Chapman, an older and experienced woman and asked her to go to the Abbey with him, to take care of Matthew Crawley.

-o-o-o-o-o-

At the Abbey they were greeted by a pale and tired looking butler.

'Good morning Mr Carson.'

'Good morning Dr Clarkson, sister. I assume you came to see to Mr Crawley?'

'Indeed we do Mr Carson, but I'd appreciate it if you would tell me about the other members of the household.'

The butler cleared his throat.

'His Lordship arrived in the early hours and we haven't seen him yet. He hasn't rang for his valet or breakfast or anything. I don't know what to do, to be honest. I suppose I best have Mr Bates let take care of him, seeing as they have gone through a lot together in the army…Mr Branson has spent the night in the Tudor room, where Mr Crawley's body was brought, keeping vigil. I suppose he's still there, as a matter of fact I was just about to check on him. All downstairs staff are sad and upset, we all liked Mr Crawley very much. And between you and me, I wish Mrs Hughes were here to tell me what to do,' he ended with a deep sigh.

Dr Clarkson hid a smile.

'Leaving his Lordship in Mr Bates' care is perhaps a wise decision, now that her Ladyship isn't here,' he told Carson. 'Be gentle on your staff and I am most grateful to you for allowing Mrs Hughes to come over to Crawley House, she helped Mrs Crawley in a way no one else could. I promise to return her as soon as possible, perhaps this evening. Now, I think we have to see to Mr Crawley.'

They went to the Tudor room and found Mr Branson in a chair next to the bed, awake but looking exhausted. Two candles were lit on each side of the bed.

'I didn't want him to be alone,' the young man explained.

'Thank you, Tom. That was very thoughtful,' Dr Clarkson said.

Carson and Mr Branson left the room and after he and nurse Chapman made sure they had everything they needed, they removed the sheet that still covered the body and set to work.

-o-o-o-o-o-

'Isobel, wake up dear. You've got to eat something,' Mrs Hughes told her friend.

It was nearly midday, Mrs Crawley had been awake for a short time around ten, had some water and, still feeling very groggy, had fallen asleep again, while Mrs Hughes sat beside her bed, holding her hand. When she was sure Mrs Crawley was asleep again, she'd wanted to stretch her legs for a bit and found she was unable to; Mrs Crawley didn't want to let go of her hand and clutched it so tight it hurt. So she had leant back in the chair and tried to get some sleep herself. She woke up because Isobel had stirred.

'Elsie?'

'Yes, it's me Isobel. You've got to wake up now, it's midday.'

Mrs Crawley sat upright and rubbed her face with her free hand. 'I was hoping it had been a nightmare,' she said. 'I woke up and I thought, it must be a nightmare because someone is holding my hand and I thought it must be M-Matthew, but it couldn't be because his hands are much larger.'

Mrs Hughes said nothing, she thought it better to let the other woman talk.

'Is it true then Elsie? It can't be true, I couldn't live with that. But then why are you here with me, if it's not because…is it true then, Elsie? Is my Matthew dead?' The last words were barely whispers.

'Yes Isobel, he is,' Mrs Hughes whispered back.

'My boy is dead, Elsie.'

She looked her friend in the eyes, for the first time, and finally let go of her hand.

'I'm so sorry Isobel. He was a good man.'

'Thank you,' Isobel whispered. They smiled at each other through their tears.

Janet, who had been in earlier to check on them, brought a tray and Elsie buttered her friend a slice of toast and poured them both a cup of tea.

'I'm not hungry.'

'I know you're not…but you should try.'

Isobel obediently nibbled her toast and seemed pensive. After a long silence, she looked at her friend, a hint of fear in her eyes. 'Elsie, I don't remember what happened. I remember Richard telling me about…about the accident and that - Matthew died…'speaking those words aloud was very difficult, but she managed, 'and I remember feeling like I fell through the floor, in a deep space and I kept falling and I wasn't there anymore.' She frowned and looked anxious. 'I don't remember getting into bed, Elsie. Do you know…?'

She told her, but left out the part where Isobel had wanted to see to her girls. Now was not the right moment for that, she knew.

'You were with me, weren't you?'

'I was, Dr Clarkson thought it might help you. He didn't want Janet to be alone with you all night, and he decided to sent for me rather than a nurse.'

'Richard sent for you?' she wondered and then smiled. 'That dear man, once again he knew exactly what to do…bringing you here. I had terrible dreams and visions but then I began to feel safe…that was you wasn't it? You held me while I slept.'

She just nodded, and Isobel shoved over, wrapped her arms around her and held her close.

'Thank you,' she whispered.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Dr Clarkson and nurse Chapman had shared a drink at the Grantham Arms, before he brought her home. 'Take the rest of the day off, you deserve it, ' he'd said.

Now he drove once again to Crawley house, worried sick about Isobel and not allowed to show it. He almost betrayed himself with Mrs Hughes though, and her remark was written in stone in his mind since then. 'You will, in time.' Was it just a careless word? Or did she know how he felt about Mrs Crawley and was it said to encourage him? Or did she just think him a good doctor? He shook his head. He had to stop driving himself mad like that. Get yourself together man! And do your job.

Janet reported. Mrs Crawley had slept until about noon, then she had brought the ladies tea and toast. Mrs Hughes had then ran a bath for Mrs Crawley and now they were in the drawing room, waiting for him. Oh, and there had been a telephone call from Downton Abbey. Mr Carson, the butler you know, had telephoned and said he needed Mrs Hughes at the House to make arrangements for the funeral and the guests that were to stay overnight. She had told him she would pass the message to Dr Clarkson and ask him to answer the call when he arrived, and Mr Carson had been most understanding.

'Thank you Janet, I will speak to the ladies first before I telephone the Abbey.'

He entered the drawing room and saw Mrs Crawley and Mrs Hughes on the large sofa, each with their feet up, facing each other and a blanket over their feet. Mrs Hughes was reading to Mrs Crawley and she looked relaxed. They didn't notice him immediately and he enjoyed the view, noticing how _Jane Eyre _seemed even more soothing when read in a soft Scottish lilt.

'Good afternoon, ladies,' he smiled, and Janet came in to change the hot water bottle under their feet and bringing a tray of hot chocolate and biscuits.

'Good afternoon Dr Clarkson, and my apologies for this lack of decorum,' Mrs Crawley smiled, rose from the sofa and walked up to him on stockinged feet. She stood just a foot away from him and looked him in the eyes.

'Thank you Richard, for doing the right thing and bring Elsie here. She saved me,' she whispered, leaned in and kissed his cheek.

'It's…well, alright,' he stammered hoping he wouldn't blush like a fool. Then, over a cup of hot chocolate he cleared his throat.

'I'm sorry, but Mr Carson telephoned earlier and it seems Mrs Hughes is needed at the House, to make arrangements,' he reported.

'Well, we knew he couldn't do without you for longer than a day,' Isobel said and smiled at Elsie's raised eyebrow, 'but I'm grateful.'

I'll go get my things,' Mrs Hughes said, got up and left the room.

Dr Clarkson sat down beside Mrs Crawley and took her hands in his.

'Isobel, listen. I know this is very difficult, but please think about it. I will drive Mrs Hughes to the Abbey and I think you should come with us. To see Matthew,' he said gently.

Her eyes widened and she squeezed his hands. 'I don't know…the accident,' she whispered.

'It doesn't show, Isobel, or I wouldn't ask you. But I think you should see him one last time.'

She began to cry and he gave her his handkerchief.

'Elsie will be with you if you don't want to be there alone, she'll leave if you want her to and she'll look after you if you wish. And Isobel, you have to speak to his Lordship.'

She wiped her eyes and he put his arm around her shoulders, a very bold gesture but the circumstances allowed it, he decided. She sighed shakily and leaned against him.

'I think you're right Richard, and I do want to see him… I'm just so afraid of what I might do,' she sighed. 'I might faint, or start screaming…'

'Don't be afraid. You're very brave, Isobel. And you're a strong woman, remember that.'

She said nothing and he knew she felt anything but strong now, but he knew how much strength she had in her. 'I'll telephone Carson and inform him.'

In the hall he met Mrs Hughes and changed a few quick words with her. She understood and went in to help Isobel to get ready.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N Please leave a review, if you can spare the time…I'd love to know what you think of this tearjerker so far... I'll have to put in some lightness next or I'll get depressed myself! x george **


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**A/N The last of the dark and teary chapters I think…hope you'll stay with me! **

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

In the end, Lord Grantham accompanied Isobel when she went to bid her son farewell. He insisted and she knew he grieved as much as she did.

Dr Clarkson had been right. No wounds, blood or disfigurements from the accident were visible. Instead, Matthew looked peaceful.

She sat down on the bed and took his cold hands in hers, kissing his fingers, then moved to kiss his forehead. Her tears fell on his face and she didn't try to stop them from falling. Lord Grantham put his hands on her shoulders. 'Your son was a good man, Isobel. He was sensible and kind and generous, and he has made my difficult and stubborn daughter the happiest woman on earth and a proud mother. And I thank you for that, for you were the one that raised him into the fine man he became and a future Earl of Grantham I would be proud of. Look at him, Isobel. He died a happy man.'

It was all true.

And his word were well meant, but they suddenly made her feel like she had no purpose in this world anymore. She raised a son to be a fine Earl. Job done. And now what? It was a new revelation to her, even in all this grief. She had no purpose anymore. Just before that black cloud of despair fully swallowed her, a knock on the door announced Carson.

'I'm sorry milord, her ladyship and lady Edith have just arrived.'

'Thank you Carson. Isobel, I've got to go, will you join me or prefer to stay…?'

She waved him off, unable to speak and he left the room.

'Carson,' she whispered and he nodded. 'I'll fetch her, ma'am.'

She let the black cloud swallow her. She cried and wailed and yes, screamed to God demanding to know why, why! So many ill and invalid and unhappy people, suffering pain and disease every day! Why my boy? My healthy happy boy, a new father! She crumbled to the floor in utter despair and was found there by the housekeeper, who picked her up and held her until she calmed down.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dinner had been a quiet affair with no one really interested in their food. Lady Mary was still in hospital and her mother would return to her after dinner. Lady Edith looked pale and withdrawn and Tom Branson sat with red rimmed eyes. Mrs Crawley was there, but it had been a struggle.

'What for? I'm not hungry. I don't want to be there, they're not my family anymore, they were only through Matthew. I'd rather stay here in your sitting room Elsie.'

'You can't Isobel, you know that. Be brave and enter that dining room. The longer you procrastinate the harder it will be to face the family. And you know they are your family; you're little George's grandmother.'

In the end Mrs Hughes had almost pushed her into the dining room.

Now, Dr Clarkson had taken care of Mrs Crawley, bringing her home and prepared to look after her during the night. He had thanked Mrs Hughes again for her help and had watched her with concern in his eyes.

'Will you be alright, Mrs Hughes? Is there anyone you can turn to?'

She'd smiled at him and told him she'd be just fine.

After their household duties she had pulled Anna aside and asked her to pay extra attention to Lady Edith. That poor girl always seemed to be the one overlooked in times like this. 'You'll know what to do Anna, just take good care of her.'

'Yes, Mrs Hughes, we'll be fine.'

Next she went to the kitchen, and with Mrs Patmore she arranged a tray of hot chocolate and fresh biscuits and carried it to the nursery. Like she thought, Tom Branson was there, playing with his little girl. Miss Sybil had climbed on her lap and fell asleep there while she talked to Tom. Kissing the girl goodnight she handed her to her father and headed to her office.

Three days to the funeral but she had to start counting now. Counting guests and guest rooms, sheets and towels and maids and napkins and aprons and safety pins and vases, she should start planning rooms and guests and maids and extra maids and maids for extra duties, she should check the supplies and order flowers and black cloth and….

She sank down at her desk, exhausted after the strange and emotional day she'd had, feeling so very sorry for Isobel and Tom and yes, Lady Edith and she just did not know where to start.

That's when she noticed a single white rose in a jam jar on her desk, and she smiled. That dear, sweet man.

Feeling better already, she took out the lists of guest rooms and laundry supplies and started counting.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Mr Carson was glad to finally be able to fall into bed, well after midnight. While that hour wasn't extraordinary, the day had been, leaving him tired and confused.

He'd almost fallen asleep when the door creaked open and a small figure clad in a sensible white nightgown slipped inside. He smiled and lifted the bedcovers to welcome her in his bed. She snuggled against him and he drew her close, kissing her forehead.

'Thank you Charles, I was so glad when I found your message,' she whispered. 'It's all so sad…I think I'd go mad if I had to be alone after all this...'

'It's alright,' he said gently, stroking her hair, 'it's alright… it's your turn to cry now love.'

'I don't need to cry, I just want to be here with you, very much and I need you to hold me,' she said, her face pressed against his neck, and so he did just that. Poor darling Elsie, being the kindest and sweetest soul on earth made everyone else seek her out for comfort, and he was happy to be the one able to comfort her in turn. He kissed her temple and held her close until she fell asleep.

-o-o-o-o-o-

'Please Richard, leave me alone. I have no purpose here anymore, you see. Robert made it clear. I raised my boy to become the Earl and now he's dead. My children are dead, my husband is dead, too. I don't know what I am anymore, I don't know what to do. I should leave and…'

'Isobel stop that!' Dr Clarkson interrupted her rant, while giving her a strong sleeping draught, which she swallowed without comment. 'You are upset and confused and I won't discuss any of this while you're in this state. You need to sleep and rest. Janet!'

'Yes Dr Clarkson?'

'I gave Mrs Crawley something to help her relax, please accompany her to her bedroom and see that she gets in alright. I will stay with her during the night.'

'Yes Dr Clarkson.'

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**TBC… probably Richobel…..**

**Please let me know what you think.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**A/N In case anyone doubted it; I do not own any of these characters, except maybe Janet… All others are Mr Fellowes' property. Having said that; I hope you like this bit.**

-o-o-o-o-o-

The funeral had been an ordeal for her. She didn't think she would have made it through the day if Richard hadn't been with her. he had been at her side the whole day, offering her his arm, passing dry handkerchiefs, being his gentle self. That had raised several eyebrows, even at a funeral the gossip machine worked, but Isobel hadn't noticed that and Richard had chosen to ignore it. Cora had invited her to stay over at the Abbey so she wouldn't be alone, and although it had been a sweet and thoughtful offer, she kindly refused. She was sure being alone in her own house would be less horrifying than staying at Downton, where grief and sorrow seemed to form a thick and heavy fog that suffocated her. She hadn't thought it possible, but of course Mary was even more devastated than she. The girl seemed almost lifeless, moving around as if she were sleepwalking and Cora and Robert were almost mad with concern about her. She was too, of course she was, but she just could not handle this enormous sorrow along with her own.

No, she could not handle that and preferred being unhappy alone.

So, when Richard drove her home after the funeral she was surprised when he informed her he was going to stay with her.

'But Richard, you can't. The hospital…'

'I have arranged for a competent nursing staff at the hospital and in case of emergency they can contact Hayes in Ripon, he and I always stand in for each other. Please Isobel, I don't want you to be alone and I knew you wouldn't want to stay at Downton. I'll be fine, Janet has prepared the guestroom.'

'I won't be pleasant company.'

'If I wanted pleasant company I would go elsewhere,' he'd smiled. 'Come on, let's get you inside before you collapse. I'm sure Janet and Mrs Field have prepared something to eat and…'

'I'm not hungry.'

'…and as I was about to say, I know you're not hungry but I believe a cup of tea is what you need.'

-o-o-o-o-o

In hindsight she supposed her behaviour that night had not been proper in other people's eyes, but to her it had seemed the most natural thing to do. After three hours of lying wide awake in her bed, too exhausted to sleep she had slipped into the guestroom, finding Richard in his pyjamas and dressing gown, up with a book. He started at her sudden appearance and she hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and just asked him.

'Richard, would you please…come with me? I don't mean…I just need you to hold me, you know, like Elsie did…'

He didn't say anything. He just got up and followed her into her bedroom, he got into bed with her and held her in his arms, and she finally fell asleep.

o-o-o-o-o

Now, five months later Dr Clarkson began to worry about her. He had visited her at least once every week and he could see she enjoyed his visits, she always made an effort to dress nicely and be entertaining. Not an easy one to fool however, he had made it a habit to have a cup of coffee with his friend Janet afterwards and what she told him made him frown. 'You're the only one she makes any effort for,' she reported. 'Most days she just sits near the fireplace in an old dress and her hair braided. When visitors call she won't see them, apart from a few exceptions.'

'Who are those exceptions?'

'Mrs Hughes from the Abbey calls in every three weeks or so, and the Dowager Countess has visited twice. And she receives lady Edith. But she doesn't dress up for them or puts up her hair…you know.'

'I see. Thank you Janet.'

o-o-o-o-o

The next day found him in the tea shop in Ripon, having tea with Elsie Hughes as they did every six weeks. He liked her, she was a free spirit, kind and sensible and she was Scottish, it was nice not to have to suppress the brogue. This tea outings also raised the occasional eyebrow, but Elsie didn't notice and he chose to ignore it. After exchanging news and gossip from the Highlands, they'd found out their birthplaces were just twenty miles apart, they discussed the Crawley family.

'What about Mr Carson? I always thought she saw him as a father figure.'

'She does, but he is not her father and lord Grantham has decided to keep her in a glass box. I know Tom would want her to work with him, but his Lordship thinks he needs to protect her from the world.'

He refilled their teacups and helped her to a slice of lemon cake. 'You must taste this Elsie, it's a new recipe and I adore it. Am I right in assuming you take care of Tom?'

She smiled. 'On occasion, when he feels particularly lonely, but he's a strong lad and he will manage. I worry more about lady Edith, her parents seem to forget her in their concern over Mary. The Dowager keeps an eye on her and Anna takes extra care, and sometimes she even joins me for a cup of tea in my sitting room, I suppose it makes her feel secure or I don't know. Poor lass.'

'I think she enjoys the quiet in your room, and how she can be herself with you. Janet tells me she visits Isobel as well.'

'I know, Isobel told me, she likes her. This cake is delicious, Richard.'

'I told you, didn't I?'

'Could you hand me another slice?' He did, and chuckled while he watched her wrap up the slice in her handkerchief. 'For Mrs Patmore. I'm sure she can reproduce it by tasting it,' Elsie whispered and slipped the small package in her handbag.

'My word Elsie, I have never seen anyone doing that,' he laughed and she smiled. 'I'm sorry, I know it's very unladylike, but anyone knowing a cook like Mrs Patmore would do the same.' He grinned, she was probably right about that.

'Isobel isn't doing well,' she stated after that.

'I know,' he sighed. 'I've tried to have her back at the hospital, there's a new project I know she'd like and it would benefit from her knowledge and experience, but she just sighs and says she hasn't got the energy and I can hardly drag her in, no matter how much I'd like to.'

'We'll sort her out, something will come up I'm sure. In the meantime, I can tell she's very fond of you, Richard.'

He choked on his tea.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Something did come up, in a most unexpected form. When Elsie went through Charles' wastepaper basket and fished out Charlie Grigg's letter, she didn't know what she held in her hands was the key to alter more than one life. At that moment she was just very, very angry with Charles. Snapping at her, barking silly orders about furniture and slamming the door didn't do with her. She was determined to find out whatever it was about Mr Grigg and Mr Carson that triggered him to behave like that even after all those years, and put an end to it.

So three days later, in which his mood had not been improving and he had driven most staff members up the wall with his growling, Elsie took the bus and went to visit Mr Grigg.

She felt sorry for the pitiful man and was shocked by his living conditions but he was able to shed some light on Mr Carson's bizarre behaviour.

In the bus on her way home, thinking about the horrible workhouse and how Mr Grigg's health was affected by that place, she realised this could be an opportunity to not only set things right for Mr Carson, but also help both Isobel and Mr Grigg…could it be possible?

The first and no doubt hardest job though would be confronting Charles. She knew she'd invaded his privacy and was fully prepared for the shouting match that was the inevitable result of that, but after her conversation with Charlie Grigg she was adamant: Charles Carson, no matter how much she loved him, had to bend and finally let go of that old grudge.

o-o-o-o-o-o

That same afternoon found Richard Clarkson in Isobel Crawley's drawing room, having tea. He had purchased some slices of the new lemon cake at the Ripon teashop and she actually enjoyed it. And when he told her about Elsie's behaviour in the shop, he saw her laugh out loud for the first time after Matthew's death.

'Do you see why I love that woman?' she said.

'Oh yes, I do as well,' he smiled, 'and to be honest Isobel, I could just imagine you doing the same. It's what makes you both so special, you do what you believe is right, whether it's neat and proper or not. Your friendship alone proves that, as does young Ethel's story. You two are a force to be reckoned with, I have to say.'

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. 'Unfortunately, I'm not much of a force these days.'

'You will be again soon, Isobel. You have to. Your grandson needs you, the hospital needs you, and I need you, too.' That was as much as a declaration he'd ever made and he was shocked by his own words. She smiled at him.

'That's very sweet of you Richard. I care a lot about you too, you know that don't you? It's just that I feel…I feel I shouldn't. Just now, when you told me about the tea shop and I laughed I regretted it. I shouldn't, I can't be happy, it's not right. My son is dead.'

Tears welled in her eyes and she looked so helpless and defeated it broke his heart.

'Oh no, Isobel,' he whispered, sat down on the armrest of her chair and took her in his arms.

'Isobel please, don't do that, don't think that.'

'But I can't help it,' she wrapped her arms around his waist and cried against his chest.

'I understand Isobel, I really do, but when you go down that path it's so hard to come back.'

'I have had moments, you know. When I didn't feel as numb and dull as I always do and felt something else. When the dowager forced her way in I was angry, and I feel comforted when Edith visits me. And when you or Elsie are here, I feel.. almost normal and I find myself looking forward to your visits, and I think it's not right.'

'Why is it not right?' he asked her.

'Because Matthew is dead. I shouldn't feel happy.'

'Isobel, listen,' he whispered and stroked her hair. 'What would Matthew say about that?'

'I know, he wouldn't want that but I just can't stop feeling guilty Richard, I can't.'

Richard kept rocking her gently in his arms until the tears dwindled down.

'You have to stop feeling guilty Isobel. I know you wish it was your life that was taken and not his. I understand that my dear, I really do.'

'He was a young father and I am old and useless.'

'I know you feel that way, it's only natural. No parent should bury their child. But Isobel, it is not your fault, it's just stupid bad luck. Please, please don't feel guilty about being alive.'

She nodded and he dropped a kiss in her hair. They stayed like that, silent and finding comfort in each other's arms, and after a while she lifted her head.

'Thank you, Richard, for understanding me so well,' she whispered and reached up to place a kiss on his cheek.

'Anytime, Isobel.'

They looked in each other's eyes, smiling.

A firm knock on the door sent them flying apart.

'Dr Clarkson, you're needed at the hospital,' Janet announced through a crack of the door. Clever girl, Richard thought. 'Thank you Janet!' he said and then turned to Isobel and took her hands in his.

'You go on, girl,' he smiled at her and kissed her forehead.

'Thank you,' she whispered and kissed his lips.

He left Crawley house walking on clouds.

o-o-o-o-o-o

**A/N please review if you have a moment, it keeps me going! Love, george x**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**A/N Thank you for your R&R! The characters aren't mine and in this chapter even some of their words are not… Mr Julian Fellowes owns it all. We bow to his genius. **

o-o-o-o-o-o

'You see, in my present state I don't think I'm strong enough to…' Isobel began, but Elsie shook her head.

'But you are ma'am, if you could just set aside your grief and use that strength for another's good,' she said, doing her best to convince her.

Isobel just watched her, not knowing what to think.

'Will that be all, ma'am?' asked Janet, who'd assumed Mrs Hughes came over for a cup of tea and had served it.

'Yes, thank you Janet.' When the door closed behind the girl, she smiled at Elsie.

'You might just as well sit down for tea and drop the ma'am, if you've got the time.'

'Always enough for a cup of tea,' she said, and she removed her coat and hat and sat down.

'I know what you are trying to do Elsie, and I'll tell you right now it won't work,' Isobel told her friend sternly. 'On the other hand, I would not wish a man with a pulmonary affection waste away in a mouldy workhouse if I can do something about it.'

Elsie smiled inwardly; despite Isobel's words, she knew she'd won her over.

'I only like to know why this man is so important to you that you want to house him here. He is Mr Carson's old friend and you hadn't even seen him before. Spill the beans Elsie, what is this all about? And don't think I don't know how close you really are to that butler of yours!'

She looked up in shock, and Isobel chuckled.

'I'm not blind Elsie.'

So she told Isobel about the Charlie's and why they weren't cheerful anymore. 'Charles won't say anything about it, he just behaves impossible, that's why I went to see Mr Grigg. From what he told me, there seems to be a big misunderstanding between them. And a lot of old wounds and pain that needs to be healed, I think.'

Isobel sighed.

'Alright, you can bring him here.'

o-o-o-o-o-o

To say that Dr Clarkson was surprised would be an understatement.

'Mrs Crawley called, she has a house guest with a lung ailment and she wants you to check on him Dr Clarkson,' nurse Evans reported one morning.

neighbour Mrs Isobel had a house guest? Wonders never ceased! He was most curious to meet the gentleman. A young farmhand who'd fallen down a roof however took most of his time that day, the boy had a complicated leg fracture and needed surgery. Nurse Evans had prepared him tea and sandwiches and by chance he was allowed the time to eat his meal, before a small boy ran in and told the doctor his mother was having the babies. By the time the twin boys were born, it was evening and too late to check on Isobel's visitor, much to his chagrin.

The next morning he forced himself to check on his patients in the hospital before he went to see Isobel, or rather her guest of course, he reminded himself. The boy with the fractured leg had made it through the night without any signs of infection yet, so far so good. On the corridor however, nurse Evans told him the farmer had sacked the boy because of the accident. The nurses hadn't told him yet, he'd barely been conscious, but did he think they should when the boy woke up?

He immediately thought of Isobel. She would start a campaign to prevent people losing their jobs because of that, he thought affectionately.

'Dr Clarkson?' the nurse asked when he didn't answer.

'Oh, I'm sorry nurse. It's quite the dilemma, poor man. I'd say, don't tell him yet, getting well is his first concern at the time.'

'Yes Dr Clarkson, we thought the same,' nurse Evans nodded and went to work.

At last he was able to drive up to Crawley House, and during the trip he had time to think.

It seemed almost everything these days made him think of Isobel. The babies born the other night, because he knew she'd had twins as well. The badly injured boy losing his job; it would fuel her strong sense of injustice and set her to work at once in the old days… Nurse Evans' hazel eyes; the same colour as Isobel's. A letter from his sister, sharing the latest news from their hometown made him think of Elsie and how she was Isobel's friend.

There was no doubt about it: he had it bad.

He sighed.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Isobel's house guest appeared to be in bad health, but he was happy to report most of it was due to the mouldy and dusty air in the workhouse, and Mr Grigg would benefit greatly from staying at Crawley house, getting much rest, eating well and taking daily walks in the fresh air. A week or two would have him back on his feet again. He handed Isobel a jar of dried herbs, to be put in hot water and inhaled by the patient three times a day.

'Thank you Dr Clarkson,' Isobel had said. 'Now Mr Grigg, Janet has ran you a bath and I have found some clean clothing for you. In the meantime I will prepare your therapy.'

He descended the stairs and somehow wasn't surprised to find Mrs Hughes there. She told him the story in a few words and he smiled fondly at her while she got his coat.

'You knew what you were doing when you brought him here,' he said.

'Mr Carson is furious with me,' she whispered, eyes worried.

He scanned the corridor to make sure they were alone, and then stroked her cheek.

'He'll come around Elsie. You did the right thing and eventually he'll have to admit that,' he smiled. 'He loves you.'

She looked up at him in shock. 'You've been talking to Isobel,' she said frowning.

'No dear, but I'm glad to hear she's seen it as well.'

And with that he left the house.

o-o-o-o-o

A week later an early evening brought him some free time and once again he drove up to Crawly house. Mr Grigg was doing well, had been sitting in the gardens for fresh air, took his inhalation therapy and had gone to bed for a nap.

He joined Isobel for tea in the drawing room and studied her while she arranged teacups and slices of cake. 'You look better, you know.'

She smiled at him. 'I feel better as well. You know, first I was cross with Elsie when she suggested I take Mr Grigg in, I knew what she was trying to do and I told her so, but she was right. I can feel again, Richard, I have feelings again,' and she gave him a radiant smile.

'I am glad,' he said. 'I've missed you.'

She put down the tea things and looked at him, an unsure expression on her face.

'You've missed me in the hospital, I suppose,' she said.

'I did, very much so.'

'But it's still running.'

'It is, because you and I have trained a very competent staff of nurses.'

'I see.' She sounded nervous.

He stood from his chair and sat beside her on the sofa.

'Isobel,' he whispered while he took her hands in his, 'it is you I have missed the most, your spirit and your wit and your humour, and your irritating ways and your kindness and your great warm heart, your stubbornness and the spark in your eyes. And I am so glad that spark is back. I have missed you so much.'

He lifted her hands to his face and kissed her fingers.

'I love you, Isobel.'

A deafening silence that seemed to last ages followed his words. She freed her hands from his.

'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…' he began.

o-o-o-o-o-o

'It is because of her grief I intervened,' Mrs Hughes told Mr Carson.

He studied her as if she were from another planet.

'I don't understand you,' he said finally.

'No. You wouldn't,' she said, and she stood and left his pantry before he saw the tears.

o-o-o-o-o-o

'It's my fault, I thought…I made a mistake. Forget what I just said Isobel, please,' Richard stammered, wishing the floor would split open and swallow him whole. Whatever had possessed him to speak his mind like that? While he knew she wasn't herself, and confused and….

Her arms sliding around his neck broke his train of thoughts.

'I love you too, Richard,' she whispered and pressed her lips against his for a kiss that left him speechless. 'I love you so much, please forgive me.'

He had to recover from the shock.

'Forgive you, for what?' he asked, clueless.

Isobel climbed on his lap and wrapped her arms around him.

'I have loved you for a long time, but felt I'd betray Reginald should I love another man, and so I told myself I didn't. Then my Matthew died and the world stopped turning, you know that…you've seen that and you were there for me. You understood me so well and I just knew you were right, Matthew wouldn't want me to spent my life feeling guilty… and in the end I just had to give in. I love you Richard, I am finally able to tell you.'

'Well...I'm glad you are,' he managed. 'I'm sorry, it's a bit of a surprise to me. I will have to get used to this.'

Isobel cuddled up against him and smiled. 'Oh, but you will Richard,' she promised.

o-o-o-o-o-o

In her narrow bed Mrs Hughes lay looking at the ceiling, silent tears running from her eyes. He didn't understand her and while she always knew that, he never before spoke the words out loud. She grabbed her handkerchief and wiped angrily at the tears. This was Mr Carson, and he wouldn't give up on that silly grudge that had been eating him for years, no matter how much she tried. He was impatient and short-tempered and growled at her.

He'll come around Elsie, he loves you, Dr Clarkson had told her, but she wasn't so sure.

Curling up on her side, clutching her handkerchief she fell asleep, only to be visited in her dreams by images of Charles shouting at her about duty and honour and how the Family always comes first, second and last, and when she woke at dawn she felt exhausted.

o-o-o-o

**A/N please tell me what you think, x george**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

**A/N Tea and sympathy between friends and fun in the nursery… we needed that didn't we. **** Just a bit of fluff here. **

o-o-o-o-o-o

Anna started when she opened the back door and found Mrs Crawley was the one knocking.

'I'm sorry Anna, I just want a word with Mrs Hughes and this way things go a bit quicker,' she explained. Anna smiled, she knew Mr Carson would make a fuss, installing Mrs Crawley in the drawing room and summoning the housekeeper, while she just wanted to see her friend.

'Yes ma'am, she's in,' she answered, checking the corridor to make sure Isobel could go in unnoticed by others.

She found Elsie in her sitting room, preparing her own tea and looking very surprised to see her.

'Isobel? What are you doing here, has something happened?'

'No, well yes, actually… May I just sit with you for a bit?' she asked, suddenly feeling tired.

'Of course, have the settee. I am just having a cup of tea, would you like one?'

She arranged the tea things on a small side table and pulled it near, while sitting down beside Isobel. She could see something was wrong and waited until the other began to speak.

'This is very nice tea,' Isobel said after a while, 'what is it?'

'It's a chai blend. Mr Pymm's nephew brought it over from India.'

'Mr Pymm from the teashop? I'd never thought him that adventurous. You have pretty teacups in here.'

'Thank you, they were my mother's. And Mr Pymm doesn't know the word adventure, but his wife certainly does.'

They enjoyed the aromatic tea and after another silence Isobel began to speak.

'I came to see George, but Nanny West told me he's asleep and not to disturb him. So she sent me off.'

'Oh, Isobel.'

'It's not the first time, you know. Cora and Robert told me to come over anytime should I want to see him, but Nanny has sent me away several times now, saying he's asleep or just had his bottle and it wasn't a good time. She won't even let me sit near his crib and watch him sleep,' -she bit back a tear- 'I was on my way home, but then I decided I needed cheering up, so I came back to see you, using the back door.'

Elsie smiled. 'Only you, Isobel. Lord Grantham would have a fit if he knew.'

'Not to mention Carson, or Nanny West. I bet she'd never let me near the children if she knew about my outrageous behaviour.'

'I think you're right about that,' Elsie mused. 'You have just hit the nail.'

She put down her teacup and rose from the settee.

'Come on Isobel, we have to speak to Nanny West. Keeping you away from your grandson is unacceptable. It's a pity Lady Grantham is out for I'm sure she would not tolerate that.'

She was ready to march straight to the nursery, but Isobel stood and grabbed her arm. 'Are you sure? I know Robert hired her because she's very experienced and has excellent references, she's looked after the Duke of Shropshire's children, and several of the King's cousins.'

'I think that is the problem, Isobel. I have always thought her somewhat strange, but I couldn't put my finger to it. Do you remember Sir Philip Tapsell?'

'Don't remind me. Richard blames himself to this very day for not acting like he thinks he should, and cart poor Sybil off to the hospital.'

Elsie hesitated.

'Well, out with it Elsie,' Isobel smiled, knowing perfectly well what hindered her friend.

'It's not for me to judge his Lordships decisions,' she said carefully.

'No it isn't, but you are right. Robert was blinded by Tapsell's title and reputation, Richard didn't stand a chance,' Isobel encouraged her friend to speak her mind.

'Yes, but there's more... Sir Philip himself was blinded by his reputation as well and thought himself infallible. I suppose something like that is the matter with Nanny West, in a way. Having raised so many little dukes and princes she believes herself to be royalty as well…you see?'

I think I do,' Isobel said, frowning.

'In her eyes, you are too common to be a proper grandmother to Master George. Entering the house through the back door, and she doesn't even know that yet.'

Isobel nodded. 'You may be right,' she said.

'And I'm worried about Miss Sybbie as well. The chauffeur's daughter, you know.'

'Good heavens. Let's go, Elsie.'

o-o-o-o-o-o

Mr Carson was glad he had the opportunity to catch up on his paperwork. With the family present, there always were lunches to be served and visitors to be presented but today everyone upstairs was out. He made a final check of his notes and calculations and finding nothing amiss, he closed his ledgers of the previous month with a deep sigh, knowing the present month was already two weeks along…better start working on that right away while he had the time. Mr Barrow could take care of the silver. He turned up a new, clean page in his account book and started to book in the invoices. But when he wrote down

_3__th__. Two cases of Spätburgunder, Mosel 1920, Mr Parker's winery, York, _he suddenly found himself distracted and with a smile on his face.

Elsie was fond of that wine.

He hadn't had a glass of wine, or a cup of tea with her the past week. He knew why; he was livid about her fishing in his wastepaper basket, angry and hurt about her interventions with Grigg and her troubling poor Mrs Crawley with the loathsome creature on top of that. She told him she'd done it because of the woman's grief, he didn't understand that and had told her so. He wasn't sure, but thought it had made her cry. He was clueless.

Then his conversation with Mrs Crawley a few days earlier sprang to his mind. What was it she'd said? I didn't know I had any energy or kindness in me, anymore. Did that mean she had found those qualities back? And was that just because of Elsie's bringing Grigg into her house?

Mr Carson put his pen down and began to think about the situation, then growled. Of course not! Grigg had always been a ladies' man, a sweet talker and he had done it again; charmed two silly women into helping him. The only thing that didn't fit in was that he knew Mrs Hughes and Mrs Crawley weren't silly women. And that Grigg had been found mouldy and coughing in the workhouse, which could not have worked well for his charm…

It seemed he would have to look at this situation from another point of view.

He picked up his pen again and got back to work, but he couldn't put the Grigg situation out of his head.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Elsie knocked and entered the nursery without waiting for an answer. She strode in, Isobel in tow, and found Nanny West feeding little George, while Sybbie sat in her crib in the other corner, nibbling a slice of bread.

'Good day Nanny. Mrs Crawley and I will take over and you can have a rest. Lady Grantham's orders,' Elsie announced.

The other woman raised her eyebrows.

'Lady Grantham isn't home, so I cannot leave the children alone. You have no authority over me, Mrs Hughes,' she said.

'Lady Grantham gave me her orders before she left,' Elsie lied. 'I am sure she won't be pleased when she learns you ignored her instructions.'

'I am…'

'You may hand Master George over to his grandmother…this moment! Thank you Nanny. I suggest you leave now and enjoy your free time. Goodbye!

Isobel watched her friend with new interest. She knew the woman had a strong will, but had not seen it displayed yet. Eyes shooting daggers she faced the nanny, hands on her hips and unrelenting.

'I'm sure her Ladyship will...' Miss West began.

'Thank you Nanny West!' Elsie snapped and held open the door.

The woman had no choice but to leave, red faced and upset and Elsie closed the door behind her. 'Good riddance,' she sighed.

Isobel found herself in an easy chair, grandson in her arms, feeding him his bottle and feeling happier than she ever thought she'd been after Matthew's death.

So engrossed with the little boy she was, she didn't notice Elsie's going around the room.

First she'd rang for a maid and then lifted Miss Sybbie from her crib. The little girl put her arms around Elsie's neck. 'Essie!' she smiled and drooled wet breadcrumbs all over Elsie's dress. She hugged the toddler and bit back her tears. She was the housekeeper and it was just not right for this little girl to greet her like that. Not while she had a nanny.

Madge answered the call and she asked her to bring them some biscuits, milk and fruit.

'There you are lassie,' Elsie told the little girl when a dish of strawberries was brought in, with whipped cream instead of milk, but she didn't complain.

Miss Sybbie sat on her lap, enjoying the strawberries and cream, her little hands putting the treat all over her face. 'Essie,' the girl babbled, offering the housekeeper a squashed and slippery strawberry.

'Is that for me? Thank you lass,' she smiled and let Sybbie put the treat in her mouth.

'For you,' the girl stated and to seal their friendship, she smeared extra cream and strawberry juice over both their faces.

'You are a naughty girl,' Elsie laughed and shared sticky kisses with a giggling Miss Sybbie.

Master George had finished his bottle and Isobel held him against her shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his warm little body against hers, cradling him to sleep.

'You two need a bath,' she smiled, watching the messy scene.

'I am happy to bath my little girl,' an amused male voice sounded at the door, 'but Mrs Hughes has to do without my help, I'm afraid,' Tom Branson chuckled.

'Daddy!' Sybbie exclaimed and slid herself from Elsie's lap to run into her father's arms.

Elsie shot to her feet.

'I'm sorry Mr Branson,' she said.

'Mrs Hughes, please don't ever apologise to me again. I have never seen my Sybbie as playful and laughing as I did just now. By the way, where is Nanny?'

'She is having a rest,' Isobel answered.

'A rest?'

'Yes, she is. Do you like her, Tom?'

He shrugged.

'She's an excellent nanny by all accounts, Lord Grantham tells me. She's very well qualified.'

'She is, but do you like her?'

He hesitated and cleared his throat.

'I can't say that I do,' he said. 'She's so cold with Sybbie…never plays with her like Mrs Hughes just did. I thought it was the way children of earls and countesses should be raised.'

'Oh no Tom, it isn't,' Elsie said gently.

'Daddy, we had stawbewie,' Tom's daughter informed him. 'Essie had stawbewie too!'

'I can see that,' he chuckled. 'Essie?'

''Mrs Hughes' is too difficult for her.'

Isobel rose from her chair.

'Well then, I suggest Tom cleans up his little girl while Essie and I have tea.'

Tom lifted his girl above his head. 'Bath time, little lady! How about that?'

She cried out with fun.

o-o-o-o-o-o

'Isobel, you are not going to call me Essie, ' Elsie said while pouring them a cup of fresh Chai blend in her room.

Isobel chuckled.

'Are you going to speak to her ladyship about Nanny West?' Elsie asked, while cleaning her face and dress from Miss Sybbie's actions.

'I think I will, yes, it seems you were right about her. Common or not, I am his grandmother, and by the way Sybil reacted to you, I assume this wasn't your first visit at the nursery, hm?'

Elsie looked guilty. 'I feel sorry for that girl,' she admitted. 'You saw how Nanny didn't pay any attention to her, while she could easily have had her sit with them. I noticed she ignores poor Sybil as much as possible, so I slip in when I get the chance. I owe it to her mother as well. Lady Sybil often came to see me when she was a child, she loved being here and she'd draw me pictures while I did my paperwork. And then we would have a cup of chocolate. She needed affection and warmth, just like her bairn does now, and her nanny wasn't a very loving person either.'

'That's so sweet of you,' Isobel smiled. 'I will speak to Cora tomorrow.'

'Just don't use the back door, or you won't stand a chance.'

'You're right. Speaking of outrageous behaviour, was Mrs Patmore able to reproduce that lemon cake?'

'Richard told you about that?'

Isobel chuckled. 'He did. And he said he could imagine me doing the same, and how that makes you and me special, being able to act against what is considered proper. I think he's right.'

'Has he visited you regularly?' Elsie asked, sensing there was more there.

Isobel leaned back on the settee and her eyes became soft.

'Yes, he did.'

Elsie smiled and waited.

'He loves me, Elsie. He said he loves me,' Isobel whispered, a blissful smile on her face.

'He is a good man.'

'Oh yes he is, I knew that for years, but I wouldn't allow myself to be happy with another man. I felt I'd betray Reginald should I do so... But Matthew's death made me chance my mind, eventually that is…we can all die the next day, so why wait. Pick the day, Elsie.'

'I am so glad you're back,' Elsie hugged her dear friend.

'So am I love, and you know you had a lot to do with that,' Isobel whispered in her neck.

When they moved apart, she gave her friend a stern look.

'And how are you getting on with your butler?' she asked.

'Not at all,' Elsie sighed. 'He refuses to see beyond his past with Mr Grigg. There's a lot of pain there and he won't let it go. And he is cross with me for invading his privacy and he hardly talks to me anymore.'

'He loves you Elsie. He will come around.'

She wiped her eyes.

' That's what Richard said, too. But what if he doesn't, Isobel. What if I'd gone too far this time?'

o-o-o-o-o

**A/N Please tell me what you think…**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

**A/N Thank you for your kind reviews! I thought this would be the final chapter, but many unexpected events turned up… I hope you like it, x george.**

o-o-o-o-o-o

Dr Clarkson placed his stethoscope first on Mr Grigg's chest, then on his back and told him to sigh deep, meanwhile listening carefully. Being very content with what he heard, he unhooked the instrument from his ears and patted the patient's shoulder.

'I have to say Mr Grigg, you have made a great improvement. Well done, I can see you followed my instructions and worked hard to get better.'

'Thank you Doctor,' Mr Grigg answered, but he didn't seem to be happy with his clean bill of health. Dr Clarkson frowned.

'Is there anything I can do for you?' he asked.

'No doctor, but thank you,' the man almost sighed.

Something was wrong there, but before he could ask any further questions Isobel intervened.

'We'll leave you to your rest then Mr Grigg,' she said kindly and pulled Richard's sleeve.

In the drawing room, after Janet brought them tea, he went to sit beside her on the sofa and put his arm around her shoulders. She smiled and snuggled up against him, and they shared a sweet, lingering kiss. When they finally broke apart she leaned against his chest and his fingers played with the loose curls in her neck.

'What's bothering Grigg, Isobel? I have a feeling you know.'

'He desperately wants to talk to Mr Carson, asked for him every day, and Carson refuses to see him,' she explained with a sigh. 'He is angry about the situation, and he's cross with Elsie because she intervened and arranged it all behind his back. He is beyond stubborn in this and he won't budge. Elsie is at her wit's end.'

'Can't she make him see reason?'

'He hardly talks to her these days. Poor thing, I feel so sorry for her.'

'I suppose it's up to you then,' Richard mused.

'Me? What could I do about him?' she looked at him, eyes wide with surprise.

'I don't know, I trust you to find the right way, eventually.'

To have tea they would have to let go of each other, neither wanted to, so they stayed wrapped in each others arms while tea ran cold on the tray.

'I wrote letters to theatres and theatre companies, to inquire about a job for Mr Grigg,' Isobel told him some time later, 'and I've received two answers that seem promising.

I trust he will be alright, it's Elsie and that stubborn butler I worry about now.'

'As I said, you'll know what to do Isobel. You know how Carson feels about the family, and you being Mrs Crawley gives you just that extra bit of authority. So you make the most of that, go over there and be Mrs Crawley. You have to more or less order him to say goodbye to Grigg. '

'I think I see what you mean…' she said slowly.

'I know you would… but Isobel?'

'Hmm?'

'Don't call at the back door, or you'll spoil the act.'

She laughed.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Four days later found Isobel in Elsie's sitting room again. She'd made sure to wear the most elaborate hat for a morning call, called at the front door and informed Carson she came to see her Ladyship.

He ushered her into the drawing room but when Cora arrived, they made their way to the nursery. Much to Isobel's delight, the Nanny West problem had been tackled by Barrow, albeit for the wrong reasons. But the woman was gone and Kate, one of the maids was appointed to look after the children until a proper replacement was found. Kate was a farm girl and her only qualification in child care was the fact that she was the eldest in a family of nine children. Not a bad qualification Isobel thought, as she watched the scene in the nursery.

Kate and Miss Sybbie were on the floor, building a tower with soft cotton blocks that fell down over and over again, much to Sybbie's delight and attached over George's crib was a string from which hung several stuffed toys. The baby was waving his arms, playing with the toys and sporting a big toothless grin.

'Hello Kate, and children,' Cora smiled.

The maid scrambled to her feet. 'I'm sorry your Ladyship, Mrs Crawley, I was just playing with the children a bit before they're having their lunch,' she said, apologising.

'Well done Kate. We can see they're enjoying themselves. You may take an hour off now, Mrs Crawley and I will give the children their lunch.'

o-o-o-o-o-o

With both children tired after their play, well fed and tucked into bed for their nap by their grandmothers, Isobel said goodbye to Cora and went to find Carson. Pulling herself to her full height, straightening her shoulders and putting a stern look on her face, she informed him about Mr Grigg's impending departure, leaving no doubt that was his last chance to meet the man. Satisfied to see him slightly confused, she turned and made a show of leaving through the front door, only to enter the house again through the back door, where Alfred helped her slipping into the housekeeper's sitting room unnoticed.

Elsie was at her desk, booking the invoices for household necessities. Washing powder, starch, household soap. Black yarn, white yarn, worsted and pins. Pins, again? Really, those maids had to be more careful. Wax, shoe polish and brass polish.

'Are you busy?'

She was, but gladly left her paperwork for a quick word with Isobel, and she knew she could be honest with her friend.

'I am, but do come in. Has something happened?'

'I just spent an hour with George! And I told Carson about Mr Grigg's new job and that he will be leaving tomorrow morning on the eleven o'clock. Richard had an idea how to finally push him into changing his mind, perhaps it'll work.'

'I hope so,' Elsie said with a faint smile.

'So do I. Richard and I will take Mr Grigg to the station tomorrow, will you be there? After all, if it hadn't been for you he'd still be in the workhouse.'

'I'd like that.'

'Good, I'll leave you to your books then and we'll meet tomorrow.'

Elsie nodded, and suddenly looked so sad Isobel came back from the door to give her a hug.

'He'll come around love, I promise,' she whispered. 'He's by far the most stubborn man I have ever met, but in the end he'll have to admit you were right all along. And if he doesn't, I will personally make him see.'

'Thank you Isobel,' she smiled at her, 'you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met so if anyone can, it's you.'

'Stubborn, me?' Isobel chuckled. 'No more than you are, Elsie. See you tomorrow.'

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

While the train puffed its way out of the station, taking Mr Grigg to a new life, Dr Clarkson, Mrs Crawley and Mrs Hughes stood on the platform, still somewhat baffled by the scene they had just witnessed. Mr Carson emerging from the clouds of steam and finally shaking hands with his former friend, willing to make peace with their shared past at the last possible moment.

Isobel watched Elsie from the corner of her eye, glad to see her obvious relief. She found her hand and squeezed it.

Elsie smiled at her and then went after the butler.

'Mr Carson, shall we walk back together?' they heard her say. He didn't answer, but politely moved to the railway side of the platform so she could walk on the safe side.

Isobel watched them until they were out of sight. She smiled happily and turned to Richard. 'Your plan worked brilliantly,' she beamed at him, 'he actually came and spoke to Mr Grigg! Elsie can handle him from now on I'm sure. Thank you so much Richard, for thinking along with me!'

'My pleasure, Isobel. But I still say you knew what to do yourself.'

'As long as I don't use the back door,' she affirmed.

He offered her his arm and they left the platform. When they reached his car he cleared his throat.

'Isobel, may I invite you to have lunch with me? I have taken the liberty to book us a table at the Thirsk Grand. There's something I'd like to discuss with you, but if you're busy otherwise, it's no problem,' he asked her, looking slightly nervous.

'I have nothing to be busy about now that Mr Grigg has left,' she answered with a sad smile. 'I'd be happy to accept your invitation Richard.'

He opened the door and helped her into his car.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

They had walked along the platform, and Elsie'd had trouble keeping up with Mr Carson's much longer strides. Just when she decided to ask him to slow down a bit, he noticed, 'Oh, I'm sorry Mrs Hughes,' and adjusted his steps to hers.

'We're back to Mrs Hughes now?' she remarked. That seemed to finally alarm him. He suddenly stood still and slowly, a pained expression washed over his face.

She watched his expressions with interest. Stone faced butler he may be, but around her he'd never been able to keep up the mask. She saw surprise, confusion and then realisation. Shame and pain followed and she took his hand.

'Oh Elsie,' he whispered. He looked as if he were to fall apart and she looked around for a place to sit and talk. The small pub near the station would have to do, she decided and pulled Mr Carson inside the shabby establishment. 'Two coffee's please,' she told the landlord, a greasy and tired looking elderly man.

She took off her coat, it was warm inside, and again took Charles' hand in hers.

'Elsie, I'm so sorry,' he whispered. 'I am. Please forgive me.'

She squeezed his hands. 'Then tell me about Mr Grigg and what happened in the past, Charles! I need to understand that.'

He remained reluctant. 'It's all so long ago,' he began, but then the landlord interrupted and brought them two steaming cups of surprisingly good coffee.

Elsie thanked the man and frowned at her companion.

'Out with it, Charles! Now!' she hissed.

And so he told her about Alice and all the pain, grief and anger his love for her had caused, and how Charlie Grigg played a role in that sorry tale. How he had been furious with her for her meddling and had locked her out.

'I was so angry with you Elsie. Fishing through my wastepaper basket, visiting Grigg behind my back and even bringing him to Crawley House, where Mrs Crawley was mourning her son. I didn't understand you and I told you so, but I have had time to think since then. It was all about Alice, and I blamed Grigg for the pain it caused me.'

He took a sip of his coffee and she just listened.

'For years I wasn't able to let it go but then you intervened. I was livid with you, but Mrs Crawley made me see things from a different perspective. When I apologised to her about Grigg being at her house, she told me she hadn't realised there was any kindness and energy in her anymore. That opened my eyes. And I remembered how you stayed with her and looked after her, the first days after Mr Crawley's death, and then I realised what a fool I had been. You are a treasure Elsie, and I do not deserve you.'

'Why not?' she asked.

'Because Alice was always between us, and I never even knew that until I spoke to Grigg. Now at last her ghost has left me. I have done you wrong Elsie, I see that now. I have never opened up to you. I let you share my bed and even then I didn't realise how important you are to me. I'm so sorry my dear, please forgive me. '

Elsie didn't know how to react. She was important to him, but he didn't know that until an hour ago? She had spent all those nights in his bed, believing he loved her, while his mind had been with Alice all the time?

'Do you mean, all you wanted from me was…a body to replace Alice's?' she finally whispered, barely audible.

'No! No Elsie, you don't understand, I was saying how I always thought about how life with Alice would have been, blaming Grigg for taking her from me. I never knew what really happened, he told me today, and he….'

Tears sprang to her eyes. 'I see Charles, I apologise for my meddling. Good day.'

She rose and put on her coat.

'No Elsie, wait!' he tried. But she turned and left the pub.

The landlord shuffled to their table to collect the empty coffee cups.

'Ye're in a right mess, mate,' he informed Mr Carson, who sat there, resting his head in his hands.

'I am,' Mr Carson admitted.

'Fancy a pint?'

'Oh, why not,' Mr Carson said angrily. 'I might as well mess things up a bit more.' The landlord brought two pints, sat down at his table and leaned over in a conspiring way.

'Couldn't help overhearing a few words, mate. You want a woman, don't go on about yer other ladies, tha's wha' I always say. Big mistake you made there.'

'But I was trying to explain that I was finally free of that other lady,' Mr Carson protested.

'Really? 'Cause you made it sound like a thank you ma'am.'

'Did I? But how…'

The landlord got up and fetched them another round of pints.

'Listen mate,' he began.

o-o-o-o-o-o

At the Thirsk Grand, Isobel and Richard enjoyed an excellent lunch.

'Thank you for inviting me Richard, I didn't realise how much I have missed feeling alive and being a part of the world,' she smiled at him, eyes shining.

'It's my pleasure, my dear. I am happy to see you've returned to the world.'

She looked around the elegant room, the fine linen, the crystal glasses, the flowers and candles and the dear man at her table, facing her, who now raised his glass.

'To life, Isobel,' he said gently, and she repeated his words, 'to life,' and to her own surprise she felt she meant it.

She took a sip of her wine. 'You know I was falling apart when he died, Richard. Four children I had, all of them dead…what was the point of living anymore. You and Elsie dragged me out of that, and I suppose Edith and the Dowager and my Janet helped as well... and George, when I was allowed to see him.'

He took a sip of his wine. 'We are all happy to have you back with us,' he remarked, 'which brings me to something I've been wanting to ask you for the past few weeks.'

She felt her pulse raise a bit. Would he…?

'I believe you've heard about the project we're running at the hospital. Examining whether patients with stomach ulcers benefit from a milk only diet. We need someone qualified to record all the information, arrange it and draw conclusions. It would be a perfect job for you, not too exhausting but you'd be able to interview patients and train the nurses. Would you like to join in?'

She never expected to feel disappointed, but she did. For a few long seconds she was too confused to react properly, but then she put herself together.

'That's…that sounds interesting,' she told him. ' But I suggest you also take in the effects of a milk only diet to general health.'

'We do, and that's exactly why I want you aboard Isobel. You are able to think for yourself and speak up to the professor,' he nodded.

'Well, I'm glad to join the project then,' she said.

'Splendid! Thank you, I know we'll benefit from your knowledge.'

'It will be nice to get back to work again,' Isobel smiled, swallowing her disappointment.

What was she thinking, she'd been pushing him away for years and now when she finally accepted Reggie was gone she'd expected… she felt her cheeks flush and was glad when the waiter brought them coffee.

A few sips of water and she was back in control.

'Monday at nine it is then,' she smiled at Richard.

'Monday at nine it is. Yes. I'm looking forward to that,' he said, looking somewhat uneasy. Then he cleared his throat, took a sip of water, cleared his throat again and sat up a bit straighter.

'There is something else I wanted to ask you Isobel,' he told her. 'It's a bit difficult, knowing the recent past but on the other hand I don't see a point in waiting any longer.' He reached over the table and took her hands in his.

'My dearest Isobel, I have loved you since I first set eyes on you,' he began. Isobel couldn't help it, her eyes sparkled and she gave him a radiant smile, while squeezing his hands. He smiled back at her and went on. 'I care about you, I want to make you happy, I love you and I want to share my life with you…' tears ran from her eyes and he continued, 'Isobel, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?'

'Yes Richard, oh yes!' she stammered through her tears, then she reached across the table, grabbed his lapels, pulled him to her and kissed his mouth. He returned the kiss happily, but gently moved away from her when he realised where they were.

'Isobel…slow down love. Let's ask for the bill and leave, hmm?'

o-o-o-o-o-o

'I have been a fool!' Mr Carson exclaimed, he had just finished his fifth pint and the landlord of the shabby pub was his new best friend. 'I should have told her how much I love her! My darling Elsie! I should have told her long ago but I was a fool!'

'Go tell her mate!' the equally intoxicated landlord shouted at him.

'I will!' Mr Carson shouted back, threw a handful of coins on the table and, after sharing a final friendly hug with the landlord he left the pub, determined to find his beloved but a bit unsteady on his feet. Normally, the walk to the Abbey from the station took a good half hour, but Mr Carson found he had trouble walking a straight line today. Luckily it was a clear, bright day, and the cool fresh air helped him to find the way back in his fuzzy mind.

'Good heavens!' he groaned when he remembered the pub and the four, four? possibly five pints he'd had. Suddenly a wave of nausea hit him and he left the path in a hurry, hid behind a tree and threw up.

Heaving and panting, he remembered his dear friend Ian. He frowned at that thought. Did he have a friend named Ian? Think, he told himself. Ah, yes. Ian owned the pub. How did he end up there? Grigg, of course, always the one to leave him in an unpleasant situation. Only this time it was different. He sighed and shook his head, trying to find out why it was different. Yes. He had been with Elsie, they had coffee… he'd told her about Alice…and he messed up spectacularly.

'Good heavens,' he groaned again when the memory of the past hours hit him full force. He had made a fool of himself in many ways, he realised. He had to return to the Abbey and set things right. He was the butler. He had to oversee the footmen and make sure no red wine was served with the fish, and the silver was polished properly. The staff all rose when he entered the servant's room. What a joke, he thought to himself. What was it again his best friend Ian had said? Not to go on about his other ladies. As if there ever had been any other ladies, really. Alice had been nothing but an image, albeit one that proved very hard to ignore. A beauty queen she had been, tall and slim, and he was blinded by her perfect face, her brown eyes and her honey blonde hair.

And then there was Elsie, who wasn't a beauty queen and anything but an image. She was alive and warm, kind and intelligent and so very sweet. His cheeks burned when he remembered all the times he'd snapped at her and even telling her he'd considered her a woman without moral. He felt ill again and hurried towards the Abbey.

o-o-o-o

Elsie had thanked the stars when Beryl told her the family had gone out to have lunch at the Dower house. She went straight to the nursery where Kate had just finished the children's lunch. 'Essie!' Miss Sybil beamed and threw herself in Elsie's arms. Kate chuckled. 'Mrs Hughes, would you mind taking her out for a half hour or so? ' she asked the housekeeper. 'She's very much awake and master George needs his nap, he's caught a slight cold.'

Elsie scooped the toddler up in her arms and took her to her sitting room, where she found a very old set of building blocks in her cupboard. She sat on her carpet next to the little girl and together they build towers and happily threw them over, again and again until Sybbie got tired of all the fun and yawned. She gently lifted the child and moved them over to her settee, where Sybbie climbed on her lap and crawled into her arms. Sighing happily about that arrangement, she immediately fell asleep against Elsie's chest.

Thus trapped on her settee, warm little body in her arms, she shifted a bit so she could rest her head and drifted off.

Almost half an hour later, Tom Branson peeked inside, looking for his daughter and smiled when he saw the pair on the settee. He sat down beside them, as gently as possible but while Sybbie didn't stir, the movement woke Mrs Hughes from her slumber. She blinked and started when she saw Tom, but he quickly laid his hand on her arm. 'It's alright Mrs Hughes, Kate told me she was here. I know she enjoys your company,' he whispered.

'And I'm afraid I needed hers,' Mrs Hughes said and looked abashed when she realised what she had admitted. She stroke Sybbie's hair. Tom nodded, understanding what she hadn't said. 'She can be a great comfort,' he said softly, and took her hand in his when he saw a tear running down her cheek. As if on cue, Sybbie heaved a deep contented sigh and snuggled closer to Mrs Hughes's chest, and they both smiled.

'It's probably none of my business Mrs Hughes,' Tom said while squeezing her hand, 'but when I came down here I witnessed Mr Carson coming home, looking worn out and telling Alfred he's ill.'

'Is he ill?' she asked absent-mindedly.

'So he said,' Tom affirmed. 'To be honest Mrs Hughes, I noticed the smell of beer on him.'

'Daft man,' she sighed.

'And he threw a very longing look at your door, when he walked past it. I would say, he looked as if he was very sorry about something.'

She wiped away another tear. 'Thank you Tom, but I don't know what to think anymore.'

Knowing he was on the right track, Tom went on.

'You know I'm a good observer, Mrs Hughes,' he stated boldly. 'Right now for example, I observe you can't walk away from me because my daughter is asleep on your lap. And I observed many other things as well, like how close you and Mr Carson always were, even in my chauffeur days. I thought you two were a couple although I never discussed it with the other staff. But when I told Sybil, she grinned and said she had been thinking the same. You know how fond she was of you, Mrs Hughes, and therefore I believe we were right. Weren't we?'

He smiled when he saw her blush. 'Was it that obvious?' she whispered.

'Oh no, but as I said I am a very good observer, and so was my Sybil,' he reassured her.

'Well, you two were close, but I've discovered today that all the time Mr Carson…actually preferred someone else,' she managed to whisper through the tears blocking her throat.

Tom remained silent for a while, chewing on this new bit of information.

'He didn't, Mrs Hughes,' he finally concluded. 'No man looking at a woman the way I watched him look at you, could want someone else.'

'But he told me, Tom. He said her ghost was always between us.'

That sounded rather disturbing, he had to admit. Still, there had to be an explanation. He could just imagine the very correct and somewhat pompous butler making a statement and forgetting the point. Feeling it his duty to explain the why, how and when, instead of skipping the uneasy parts and just saying what he needed to say. He suppressed a smile when it occurred to him the butler was not unlike his father-in-law.

'Did he say anything about you?' he asked.

'He told me I am a treasure and he doesn't deserve me,' she said. 'Good heavens, I can't believe I'm discussing this with you, I should be ashamed of myself.'

'That's why I'm glad Sybbie's on your lap,' he grinned. 'You just have to listen to me now. And I am honoured you discuss this with me, Mrs Hughes. You have been a great comfort to me when Matthew died and I am happy to return the favour. I believe Mr Carson was trying to tell you that he finally realised how much he cares about you, and being Mr Carson, he chose the wrong words. Didn't he do so before?'

'Oh yes, many times,' she sighed, 'but he always apologised after that.'

'Only this time he didn't get the chance, did he?' Tom said gently.

The tears broke, she began to cry and the sobbing woke Miss Sybil, who stirred and, seeing her daddy, happily crawled into his lap, where she watched the crying woman with big eyes.

'Why is Essie cwying?' she asked her daddy.

'She is a bit sad, love. People are sometimes.'

Looking determined, the toddler climbed on her feet, leaned over to Mrs Hughes, wrapped her arms around her neck and planted a very wet kiss on her mouth.

'It's over now!' she declared, like she herself had been told many times when she had fallen and been given a kiss to make it better.

'That's right lassie,' Mrs Hughes hugged the little girl. 'Thank you for that. And you too, Tom,' she smiled through her tears while handing his daughter over to him.

'Go see him, Mrs Hughes, I know I am right. He's battling a hangover so he won't be able to talk a lot more nonsense. And if you allow me, I would like to apply Sybbie's remedy as well.'

He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, pulled her against him and gently kissed her lips, albeit a lot less sloppy than Miss Sybil had done.

'My mother died many years ago, Mrs Hughes. I miss her very much, but you have filled that void a bit. I care a lot about you and I know Sybil did, too. Since you're already Sybbie's surrogate granny, can I be your surrogate son? Lord Grantham wouldn't approve but then he doesn't need to know.'

'I'd love that, my boy,' she told the young man, stroking his cheek. 'It will be our secret.'

'Very well mum, now go and talk to the butler!' he chuckled.

After sharing farewell kisses with her new son and granddaughter, Elsie went to see Charles.

o-o-o-o-o-o

**A/N Please leave a review if you can spare the time…they keep me going.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

o-o-o-o-o-o

Elsie Hughes had seen many drunk men in her younger days, and she was wise enough not to bother Mr Carson now, no matter what Tom had said. She did go to his room, but only to bring him two large jugs of water and some headache powders. Like she had expected he was in bed, snoring happily and she left him to himself. Tomorrow would be soon enough. She checked the clock, and asked Alfred to bring Mr Carson dry toast and black coffee, around seven pm.

A quiet afternoon was spent keeping the books, counting supplies and her weekly meeting with Lady Grantham, to discuss household matters.

'You look a lot better Mrs Hughes, less tired than last week,' the Countess smiled at her, when they had finished talking business.

'I do feel better, thank you milady,' she answered, mildly surprised.

'I am glad. Mrs Crawley told me how you've been there for her during these difficult weeks after Mr Crawley's death and how much your support meant to her. Also, I understood you have been a comfort to Mr Branson and lady Edith. So I want to thank you, very much, for what you did for them Mrs Hughes.'

She was deeply touched by the other woman's kindness, just like she'd been in those dark days when she didn't know whether she'd live or die, and her ladyship had told her not to worry because they would take care of her.

'I only did what was needed milady,' she said, a bit embarrassed.

'I know you did Mrs Hughes, that's the point. I know money is a cold and lifeless thing compared to a good heart, but nevertheless I have decided to raise your salary.'

'But milady…'

'None of that, Mrs Hughes. I am just putting things right. It's a shame Barrow earns more than you do, only because he's a man. I have always thought so and now I've got just the right reason to correct that. It's my decision Mrs Hughes.'

She swallowed.

'I…thank you, milady. But rules are…' she tried gently.

'I know what the rules are and it is high time they change. There's no need to have scruples Mrs Hughes, but if it makes you feel better; I am sure the Dowager Countess would agree with me.'

That lightened the mood and they both laughed.

'Thank you milady,' Mrs Hughes said.

'And I thank you, Mrs Hughes.'

o-o-o-o-o-o

Elsie enjoyed a cup of tea with Mrs Patmore that evening after dinner and with the house quiet and all her books, lists and schedules up to date, she decided she was going to have an early night in, the first in…oh, too many weeks to count.

For extra joy and comfort she prepared a hot water bottle – her room was always chilly- selected a novel and climbed the stairs.

She undressed and unpinned her hair, brushed and braided it, all with just a tad more attention and care than on the usual, much later nights, slipped her hot water bottle under the covers and had just crawled into bed when she noticed the letter. It had been shoved under the door and swept into the corner when she'd entered the room.

She curled up onto her side, hot water bottle between her feet, hugged her pillow and stared at the small envelope, feeling her good mood vanish.

The letter had to be from Charles. No one else would have had the opportunity to slip a note under her door, and no one else would have had a reason to. Now what? Should she read it? She bit her lip, trying very hard to remember Tom's words and how they had made sense…but she couldn't block Charles's voice, telling her how Alice's ghost had always been between them. _Always between us Elsie. Always between us. Always_…it echoed in her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut and remembered Isobel's voice. He loves you Elsie, he'll come around. I promise, she said, but the voice coming from the envelope on the floor was stronger. It boomed in her ears and she couldn't shut it out.

_Elsie dear. So sorry. I have done you wrong. Her ghost was always between us. I care about you. I don't deserve you. I am so sorry. Always between us. Forgive me Elsie…_

'Mrs Hughes?'

Anna's soft voice through the keyhole made her scoot upright in bed.

'Yes, Anna.'

'I'm sorry to disturb you, but Madge just tripped on the stairs and hurt her ankle. Mr Barrow says it's not broken, just sprained, but she can't walk. I wanted you to know before I go home. Goodnight, Mrs Hughes.'

'Goodnight Anna,' she smiled at the dear girl, even if she couldn't see it. Her knock and the simple message about a household matter had pulled her from her downward trail of thoughts.

The letter on the floor was again just that: a letter, not some elephant in the room. She got up, picked up the envelope and crawled back in to bed before opening it.

My dearest Elsie, it began and she let out a sigh…she had feared a Dear Mrs Hughes. So far, so good.

_My dearest Elsie,_

_Half an hour ago I woke up, feeling absolutely terrible and on my bedside table I found just the things I needed most; lots and lots of fresh water and a headache powder. Your work, no doubt. While that helped me feeling alive again, the real shock came after I consumed some of the toast and coffee young Alfred brought me. _

_Good heavens, I behaved like an utter fool today, and I don't mean my beer party at the pub! No, that was probably one of the wiser things I did today. Let me explain. _

_Elsie, this morning I was trying to tell you how much I love you. Being me I used too many words, explaining too much and forgetting the most important bit. _

_I fell in love with you the moment you told me to mind my own business. You were only with us for a few days, and I told you it wasn't proper for the housekeeper to help the maids beating the carpets. Do you remember that day? That fiery temper, those flaming eyes, I knew you were the woman I wanted. And immediately my conscience began to nag at me, because of Alice. I thought she had been taken away from me and I had promised I'd wait for her and marry her. And while I fell more in love with you every day, my promise to Alice grew heavier in my mind. Suppose she came back to me, how was I to tell her I never loved her? How I thought I did but that she'd never been more than a pretty face and a sweet smile. And how I found the love of my life and would not let her go. That's what I meant when I told you Alice's ghost had been between us, Elsie. Not because I love her, but because I don't. _

_Grigg told me she died five years ago and I feel free now, even though I always suspected I was the only one to even remember that promise._

_Alice had a pretty face and a sweet smile. You, my darling Elsie, have a heart of gold, a gentle soul, a sharp mind and a sense of humour, the most beautiful eyes in the world, the prettiest face and the sweetest smile I have ever seen. _

_Sweet dreams, my love._

_I'll see you tomorrow, and then we can have a proper talk. _

_I love you. _

_Charles. _

She folded the sheet of paper and carefully placed it back into the envelope. She placed it under her pillow, curled up on her side, knees pulled up, hot water bottle against her stomach, clutching her handkerchief. She pulled the blankets up to her ears and cried with relief and happiness.

o-o-o-o-o-o

The next week saw a row between Lord and lady Grantham.

Not only had the news Isobel had brought them last night put his world upside down, he'd also found out about Mrs Hughes's upgraded salary.

'A rise? What does she need that for, new dresses?! She's the housekeeper, Cora!'

'She deserves it Robert!' she snapped. 'And I will not discuss this with you. Your mother agrees with me on this!'

'And I'm sure Isobel does too, come to that!' he growled. 'What about this latest plan of hers, absolutely impossible! Leaving Crawley House, where does she wants to go?'

Cora hid a smile. He was so predictable.

'You heard what she said, she is going to marry Dr Clarkson and she will move into his house with him,' she said.

'His house indeed. It's hardly more than a cottage! It's absolutely unfit for the next Earl of Grantham's grandmother!' Robert bristled.

Cora couldn't help it; she chuckled.

'Robert, the next Earl of Grantham is still sucking his thumb. I'm sure he doesn't mind where his granny lives, as long as she's able to cuddle him.'

'Laugh all you want, but remember we'll have to allow him to visit her in that place when he grows up. Do you see what I mean?'

'No Robert I do not.'

He stared at her, perplexed.

'The times are changing Robert, even your mother understands that. Isobel is going to marry the man she loves and no, he is not a baron. But he is a good man with a respectable profession and she will be able to work alongside of him. Can you honestly picture Isobel in some estate, spending her time embroidering pillowslips and reciting poetry?'

To her surprise he really tried to picture that for a moment, then grinned. 'And picking flowers in the garden, wearing a pink hat and singing French love songs,' he added. The image was so out of character, it made him laugh out loud.

'You're right, that's not her. As much as she annoys me sometimes, she's a good woman. But there's still something between an estate and the doctor's cottage, Cora!'

'Yes, Crawley House, but she doesn't want to stay there. Accept it, Robert.'

He sighed, poured himself a whisky and brought his wife a glass of port.

'I have no choice here, do I,' he grumbled. 'You've arranged it all, you even pulled Mama in…and what's that nonsense about Mrs Hughes needing a rise in her salary.'

'I told you; she deserves it,' Cora said. 'She is an excellent housekeeper and she runs much more than just the house.'

Her husband sighed. 'I can see all that but again, what does she need it for?'

Cora frowned. 'I'd say she'd like to save up an extra bit for her old age, and heaven forbid, she might actually want a new dress! I will not change my mind about this, Robert. And if you think it costs the house too much, I suggest you take it off Barrow's wages! Why would he need so much more than her, hm? Only because he is a man?'

Again he surprised her by thinking that over and starting to grin.

'That is an excellent idea Cora. I never liked him, nor does Carson, I'm sure about that although he never says anything... Splendid! Thank you, darling!'

He laughed, wrapped her in his arms and planted a firm kiss on her lips, before going to his study to write out the new arrangements.

o-o-o-o-o-o

**A/N Please leave a review if you have a moment… x george**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

**A/N Sorry for the long delay. Real life taking time, you know. Lots of fluff, pillow talk and wedding bells here… Hope you enjoy it, too **

o-o-o-o-

That evening Elsie intended to finish next month's working schedule for the maids, when she found a rose in a jam jar on her desk and she dropped the schedules in relieve. The day had been extremely busy and they hadn't had an opportunity to talk, like he had promised her. A rose on her desk was his way to invite her to his room for the night, this time however she found a note attached to the stem.

_Please meet me in the Italian room tonight. _

_Love you._

The Italian room. It wasin the northern wing, and a bit draughty so it was seldom used as a guest room. A pity, she always thought, because it was a beautiful room, with rich dark red and golden decorations and a big four poster bed.

She smiled. Knowing Charles, he would have built a fire and placed hot stones in the bed. No one would disturb them there.

She happily abandoned the schedules and left her sitting room.

Having picked up her night things, she entered the Italian room, finding it like she'd expected. A small fire burned, the lamps near the vanity were switched on. She found another note.

_If you find this note I haven't finished my rounds yet. See you soon, my love._

A bottle of wine and two glasses sat on the vanity, next to a small dish with Belgian chocolate. Dear man, she smiled to herself. She poured herself a glass and took her time undressing, slowly peeling off her dress, her corset, shift and stockings, while taking small sips of wine. She unpinned her hair, brushed it and let the auburn locks fall free over her shoulders. A quick wash and then a jar of_ Almond Body Cream,_ purchased months ago was finally opened. She carefully applied the cream. Her arms and legs, breasts and her bottom, she enjoyed taking care of her body like this when she had the time, which was not very often. The cream was soft and had a delicate perfume.

Putting on her white embroidered nightgown, she slipped under the covers of the four poster, finding indeed hot stones and a hot water bottle to warm the bed.

I could get used to this, she thought to herself when the door creaked open and Charles came in.

'There you are my love,' he smiled at her, 'just the way I like to see you most. I love seeing you every minute of every day, but here in this bed you are the loveliest view I can imagine.'

He undressed quickly, joined her under the covers and pulled her in his arms.

'I am so glad you still want to talk to me, Elsie. I have been such a stubborn fool, being so stuck in my anger with Grigg I couldn't even see what you were doing. It took Mrs Crawley to finally open my eyes. I'm so sorry Elsie, I know I have hurt you.'

'You did Charles,' she whispered against his chest. 'Why didn't you just tell me about it?'

'I didn't know how I'd felt until yesterday morning, and then when I tried to tell you I made an utter mess of it. It was Ian who suggested I write you a letter instead.'

'It was a beautiful letter,' she smiled, 'and a very thoughtful idea to meet here.'

'I know it's always a bit chilly but on the other hand, it is a lovely room, we will not be bothered here and you deserve some luxury and a decent bed for once. Elsie, please forgive me for being the most insensitive and stupid man.'

'Only if you forgive me as well,' she said and his eyebrows rose. 'Forgive you? What for?'

'For not hearing you out and drawing my conclusions too soon,' she answered. 'Tom made me see that. He was very kind to me.'

'Of course you're forgiven my love,' Charles said earnestly.

'And so are you, my dear man,' she answered, kissing him deep and crawling in his arms.

XXX

Hours later he woke up in a strange bed in a strange room, but the lamps near the vanity still spread a soft, warm light and he held Elsie's familiar frame in his arms. She was sleeping peacefully. Wrapping a lock of her hair around his finger, carefully not to wake her, he began to think the situation over.

First and foremost, he decided, I love her. I have loved her for years and I always will. Stealing kisses and embraces and secret trysts like this just won't do anymore. I want to be with her, day and night. I want her to be my wife. Married butlers and housekeepers are not accepted though. Either we'll have the Family change the rules, or we won't be the butler and housekeeper anymore. And then what?

The answer hit him like a rock.

Take over Ian's shabby pub and fix it up. That location near the station is priceless, if one put some effort in it can be a huge success. Ian can stay, brushed up a bit, tending bar, and in the background Elsie will rule and it will be pristine. He chuckled and had to resist the urge to wake her up at once, then another realisation hit him. What if she didn't want to be his wife? She was an independent woman with a responsible job and she valued that, he knew her friendship with Isobel Crawley would only have augmented to her views.

However, keeping silent and thinking he knew what she was thinking instead of speaking his mind had not been successful so far. Perhaps he should talk to her…and with that thought on his mind he fell asleep again, Elsie's soft, warm body curled up in his arms, his lips on her hair.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Isobel Crawley and Richard Clarkson got married on a beautiful, clear morning in spring. She wore a cream coloured suit and the happiest expression ever. It was a small party; both of them already having had the experience before, they had decided on a quiet wedding and a lunch with the guests afterwards. The Crawley family was present, Richards sister and her husband had come down from Scotland accompanied by their two daughters and their husbands. Every nurse from the hospital that was off duty attended, much to their joy.

Isobel's only, older brother was too unwell to travel, his wife, who'd answered to the invitation, had never liked her – the feeling was mutual- and both their sons were living in India, so she had no one of her own. That realisation, added to the pain of having buried all her children, had lead to tears.

Richard had held her and kissed her and told her he understood how she felt, which had lead to even more tears and Isobel sobbing in his arms, telling him how much she loved him for just being there and not trying to cheer her up.

The day before the wedding had brought a letter from Isobel's brother; telling her he was planning to visit her as soon as the condition of his legs allowed him to travel. 'I am optimistic,' he wrote, 'the nurses and I have developed another way of bandaging and it seems to work. I am looking forward to see you again and meet your new man. Be happy, my darling. All my love, Roger.'

That had cheered her up and she was a happy, beautiful bride.

When they left the church and faced the crowd that were waiting outside, Richard chuckled and pointed at the nurses, who were having fun and jumped up and down in anticipation.

'What do they want?' she asked him and he told her.

'It's tradition the bride throws her bouquet at the single women, and the one that catches it is the next one to marry,' he explained. 'They are waiting for you to throw them the flowers.'

'Really? I never knew that.'

'It's a tradition that's centuries old, but perhaps it is not common everywhere.'

'Hm, I see.' Her eyes scanned the group and rested on Elsie, who stood a bit to the side in her dark blue suit, smiling happily.

Richard understood what she was thinking and cleared his throat.

'No darling, you'll only embarrass her in front of the family,' he whispered. She turned her face to look at him. 'You're right. Again. Thank you my love,' she said, then smiled and threw her bouquet amidst the nurses.

A lunch party for the couple was to be held at Downton Abbey, but because of the surprisingly soft weather the lunch was served in the gardens, at the newlyweds' request.

Exquisite food was served, prepared by Mrs Patmore and her crew, but Isobel found the best moment of her day, apart from declaring 'I do' in front of the vicar, was holding George in her arms and spoon-feeding him his fruit and milk treat with Richard sitting next to her.

'I am so happy,' she whispered and he could tell she was, by the sparkle in her hazel eyes that had been missing for so long. 'I love you so much Richard.'

'And I love you, my beautiful bride,' he smiled and kissed her cheek, after all he was free to do so now.

'Burp!' added Master George and they both laughed.

'That was a deep one,' Richard commented. He was right, the boy slumped against his granny's chest and fell asleep almost at once. Kate came to pick the boy up, but she shook her head. With Richard's arm around her shoulders and her grandson sleeping in her arms, she felt alive and happy, feelings she'd thought she'd never experience again after Matthew's death.

o-o-o-o-o-o

The new Mr and Mrs Clarkson celebrated their wedding night in Dr Clarkson's cottage. That morning Isobel had said goodbye to Crawley House, a place that had never felt like home to her. Richard's house had been given a make-over; fresh paint, new curtains, floors polished and her antiques brought in. His bedroom had been a Spartan affair and hadn't changed too much; she wasn't one for flowers and ruffles. She had brought in a beautiful antique bed, closet and chest of drawers in dark polished wood. The bed was made with simple cream coloured sheets and a welcoming fire burned in the hearth.

Richard slowly undressed his bride down to her shift. Then he began removing the pins from her hair. The dark blonde locks fell over her shoulders and he combed them with his fingers.

'So beautiful, my Isobel… so beautiful, so lovely…'

XXX

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The same night saw another meeting in the Italian Room at Downton Abbey. Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson had both been able to leave their duties well before midnight, having worked ahead, and met in the chilly but beautiful room. The bed prepared with hot stones and hot water bottle again, they had wasted no time and made love, slowly, tenderly and sweet.

'Elsie, my love…my love,' he had groaned in her ear and now she held him, his head on her shoulder, his hand caressing her body. She almost fell asleep when he kissed her neck and sighed, 'Elsie, I don't want do this anymore. I can't.'

She was shocked awake. 'What….you mean…'

He realised how his words must have sounded, caressed her face and kissed her.

'Oh no darling, what I mean is, I don't want to have to meet you in secret anymore. Seeing Isobel and Dr Clarkson today, I realised that's what I want, too. I love you, I want to be with you and I want everyone to know how proud I am to have such a wonderful woman love me. Elsie…I want to marry you, if you will have me?'

Seconds passed and he held his breath, while the silence thundered in his ears.

'Oh Charles, oh yes, yes…' she whispered.

He let out his breath and kissed her deeply. 'Thank you, my dearest Mrs Carson,' he smiled. 'You just made me the happiest man alive.'

o-o-o-o-o-o

Two weeks later Mrs Hughes visited Mrs Clarkson in her cottage. Mrs Hughes had her half day and Isobel had invited her friend for tea. She and Richard had treated themselves to a two week honeymoon, visiting Isobel's brother and spending a lovely week in Scotland.

Janet had showed her into the small drawing room, and served them tea.

'Elsie, I have visited your homeland! Richard showed me everything and it's so beautiful there. I wish you could have come with us, you haven't been there for many years, I know that.'

'That's true, but surely you wouldn't have wanted me there on your honeymoon,' Elsie chuckled. 'It is beautiful, but it can be a hard place to live you know, in winter on a sheep farm. Still, I've been very happy there and it's nice to know you've been there with Richard.'

'Who knows, maybe some day that stubborn lover of yours comes to his senses and see what's in front of him, and you'll have your own honeymoon in Scotland.'

'He already did,' Elsie blushed. 'He asked me to marry him Isobel, and I've accepted.'

'Oh, that's wonderful!' Isobel jumped from the settee and embraced her friend. 'I knew he would come around! I can't wait to tell Richard, he will be delighted, he's very fond of you Elsie. Will you stay at Downton after the wedding?'

'No, we won't,' Elsie answered. 'We can't, butlers and housekeepers aren't supposed to be married. It's the way it is.'

'What? But that's insane, it's the twentieth century!'

'It is, but Isobel, I don't mind,' Elsie said and then told her friend about their plans with the 'King's Arms' public house. Isobel was speechless, but soon her eyes began to shine.

'Elsie, that's fantastic. You'll be independent and work for yourselves. You'll make it a success, I'm sure… but there's Richard! Oh Richard, come over here and bring a bottle of wine!' Isobel called at her husband. 'We've got a lot to celebrate! You won't believe the news!'

o-o-o-o-o

**TBC very soon, I promise! x george**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13.

**A/N Ian has something to say about the matter and so does Lord Grantham. **

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

'You wan' ter buy the place?' Ian asked confused.

'I do, if you agree to sell it.' Mr Carson replied.

'Yeah but, it's a bit of a mess,' Ian said ruefully.

'I have seen that, and I think my wife and I are able to fix it,' he said.

'Yer missus, eh? The one tha' ran out of 'ere?'

'That one,' Mr Carson confirmed. 'I am going to marry her.'

'See tha' you do mate. A good one that one is.'

'I am glad you approve of my wife,' Mr Carson said irritated, but Ian chuckled.

'For yer missus I'll sell you the place,' he said. 'She's the best, I told you so.'

'I know that and I thank you again. I have thanked you many times already but once again, I thank you for making me write her a letter.'

'Just so you know,' Ian growled. 'The place is yours if you wan' it mate. We'll settle an' I'll help you brush it up. Been too much fer me to 'andle on me own. Yer lady will brighten it up.'

'My lady and a few pots of paint,' Mr Carson remarked.

'That too. Don' worry mate, we'll fix her up nicely.'

And so they had.

More than a few pots of paint were needed though, as well as many buckets of soapy water and lots of elbow grease. Freshly scrubbed and painted, with new curtains and furniture, the place was almost unrecognizable.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

'That's it, right over there,' Mrs Carson pointed. 'That's where I was born. Dear me, I forgot how small it is.'

'I doesn't seem that small to me,' her husband remarked.

'Nearly half of it is stables,' she said, a faraway look in her eyes. 'I haven't seen it in…I don't know how many years, I last went here when my sister had her first, she's lived here for a short while before she moved to Druimdrishaig.'

'Where to?'

'Druimdrishaig. It's the big city in this area, hundreds of inhabitants. Shall we go over and have a look at the house?'

Like Isobel had predicted, Elsie and Charles had their honeymoon in Scotland, only theirs lasted four days instead of two weeks.

She looked eager to see the place again, and her husband nodded. Together they made their way along the overgrown, rocky cart track. 'Careful there,' she warned when they got closer. 'There used to be a ditch somewhere around here…don't get hurt or I don't know how to get back to the land of the living.'

They approached the old farm, and noticed the door wasn't locked; it stood ajar. 'Come on,' Elsie whispered and took her husband by the hand.

'Are we allowed to enter?' he asked her and she shrugged. 'Well, if anyone is allowed it should be me.' She pushed open the door and went inside.

They stood in a big, square room, with a large oven and stove made of bricks in the middle.

'I say, the kitchen is pretty large,' Charles said and Elsie chuckled.

'This is not just the kitchen, it's the whole house. Open that door on the left, and you're in the stable. Ten sheep we had, and some hens. And that hatch over here,' she pointed at the ceiling, 'leads to the attic, where we slept. I see the ladder has gone missing. We put our beds next to the chimney, for extra warmth, and in very cold winters we used to sleep here in the kitchen.' Charles was shocked, he knew she had lived on a small farm, but he'd never expected it to be like this. He looked at her and saw the sweet smile on her face.

'We were very happy here, Charles,' she said. 'I am glad you have seen it.'

'Thank you for showing me,' he answered.

'Let's go back to the inn,' she said.

'Just one moment.' Charles wrapped her in his arms and smiled at her. 'I'd like to kiss you here, where you've been so happy,' and he did. She cuddled against him and sighed. 'That is very sweet of you,' she said.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When Lord Grantham was told his butler wished to leave his household, he had been bewildered.

'Carson, what do you mean? Are you saying you're leaving us?'

'Yes, milord.'

'But you can't! What are we going to do? It's impossible, Carson!'

'I'm sorry milord, but it isn't. When replacements are available, a butler is free to leave. I believe Mr Barrow is quite eager to replace me, and Mr Moseley can act as under butler.'

'Barrow, Moseley? I need you here Carson! And why, pray tell, should you want to leave anyway? You want to return to the stage?'

That was a blow beneath the belt, but Carson didn't flinch. His lordship wasn't used to radical changes, after all.

'No, milord. It is my wish to get married.'

'Married?! You? And to whom, may I ask?!' the Earl fumed.

'It is my wish to marry Mrs Hughes, milord.' Carson said proudly.

'You…what? You will…Mrs Hughes? That's impossible Carson! I can't have a married housekeeper!'

'Therefore, Mrs Hughes will leave as well, milord,' Carson said politely. 'I believe Mrs Bates is ready to take over the position.'

'I will not allow it. I can't have both my senior staff leave at the same time!'

'Would you employ a married couple as your butler and housekeeper, milord?'

'Of course not!'

'That's why we have to leave Downton Abbey, milord. I am sorry.'

'Well, I will not allow it! You can't leave just like that… there must be a way to prevent this, I'm sure. The dowager countess will know. Telephone Dower house at once and inform her ladyship I'm on my way!'

'Very well, milord,' Carson said and left the library.

He went to his pantry and placed the telephone call, then sank into his desk chair.

Good heavens! he never expected the news to go down well, but this…? No, to be honest he had expected exactly this, or worse. He sighed.

We are employees and therefore, we have the right to leave. Gwen did, Alfred too, and O'Brien in her sneaky way. Imagine Elsie and me leave secretly in the night like she did! If we agree to wait for the right moment to leave we may wait forever, because there never will be a right moment for the family. I want to marry the love of my life, like farmers and factory workers do. It's that simple. Or it should be.

o-o-o-o-o-o

'Mama! I need your help!'

Lord Grantham almost ran into his mother's drawing room.

'Good heavens Robert. Sit down and have a drink,' she said, an eyebrow raised. 'Is Cora in good health? The girls too, and the little ones? Then I don't see why you have to storm in here like a madman.'

He growled, but poured himself a whisky and sat down obediently.

'Now, I would like to know what it is that has upset you like that,' the Dowager said calmly.

'It's Carson, Mama. He told me he is leaving! He wants to get married, can you imagine that, to Mrs Hughes! And she will leave as well, because we don't employ married people in their positions!'

The Dowager chuckled.

'I began to think he'd never ask her,' she said. 'Now Robert, don't tell me you're surprised! Are you really? My goodness, I have seen that coming for years. You know I don't care much about your housekeeper, but it's clear he's smitten with her. And Sybil, bless her soul, was very fond of her, so…'

'Mama, you don't understand!' her son cut her off. 'They are going to leave!'

'Well, they have to, don't they? You don't employ married couples in their positions.'

The Earl sat struck dumb for a few seconds, but then he regained his speech.

'Mama, I can't have Carson leave the house. And Mrs Hughes, well, Cora is pleased with her work and that's all I care about. Surely there has to be a way to prevent this?'

'Of course there is,' the Dowager said.

She saw his face brighten at her words and went on.

'Just be present at their wedding, and then when the vicar asks if anyone knows of a reason why these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony, you stand and tell him you don't want them to leave your service. Check _Jane Eyre_ for the correct phrases if you have to, there's a copy in your library.'

'You're being ridiculous!' the Earl growled.

'No more than you are, Robert!' his mother snapped. 'You are behaving like a small child that has his favourite toy taken away. If Carson and Mrs Hughes want to get married, give them your blessing and let them go. They deserve a few happy years together. Downton will not collapse without Carson and if it does, it does.'

'But...'

'No buts, Robert. Finish your drink and go home.'

It took the Earl some effort not to answer her with a 'yes, mama.' Instead he just grumbled and did as she said.

When returning home, more unpleasantness awaited him.

'Robert, have you really told Carson he can't get married because you want him to stay here?' his wife demanded.

'Did he complain to you?' he growled.

'No he did not. Mrs Hughes came to hand in her resignation, and when I went to find you to congratulate them, Carson told me you'd gone to see your mother. I asked why and then I just about forced him to tell me. You deny them a life together just because you don't want to get used to a new butler?!'

'Well, it's most inconvenient! And you have to get used to another housekeeper as well.'

'I am speechless. I really am, Robert! I never thought you to be that selfish. You treat them as if they're your property!'

'But I don't like Barrow,' he sulked.

'Then I suggest you place an ad for a proper replacement.'

The Earl of Grantham sighed. When they decided to team up, there was no force that could stop his wife and his mother. He knew he had to admit defeat.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Two weeks before opening day Miss Hughes, for she had been a Mrs only because of her position at Downton, became Mrs Carson. It was a quiet wedding ceremony on a Wednesday morning and Lord Grantham had not been there to make objections. The Dowager, lady Edith and Mr Branson had been present however, as well as Dr and Mrs Clarkson and Ian.

'It's best to get married now and enjoy your honeymoon,' Tom had told miss Hughes. 'Most of the work on the pub is completed, Ian will supervise the rest, and I will pop in now and then as well.'

'You don't have to do that,' she began, but he silenced her with a kiss on her cheek.

'You are my second mum, remember? Sybbie's second granny. That's what family do, Mrs Hughes.'

She smiled at him.

'I'm not Mrs Hughes anymore, and Mrs Carson sounds strange even to me…won't you call me Elsie?'

'I'd like that.'

After the wedding ceremony there had been a lunch at the Thirsk Grand, arranged for by the Dowager Countess and at three the newlyweds boarded the train up north.

'Let's go to Inveraray, my love,' Elsie said while cuddling up to her husband. 'I can't wait to show you my homeland.'

They arrived at eight, the landlord had prepared them a small supper of cold chicken, bread and cheese, some fruits and a pot of tea. When they had finished the meal she smiled at him.

'Charles, no wine tonight, I would like to go to our room now. It's been a long day.'

Their room had its own bathroom, and Elsie was delighted when the landlord told them he'd serve them breakfast in their room around nine.

'Oh Charles, let's take a bath together!'

Sweet smelling soap and big fluffy towels. A large bed with crisp white linens and… hot stones. Elsie in a batiste nightgown, long hair spilling over her shoulders, eyes radiant. Charles's hands all over her body. Nightgown on the floor, sweat on her back and on his face. Hot kisses. I want you. I love you. Please, now… Yes… oh yes… my love, oh my love.

XXX

o-o-o-o-o

**TBC Thank you for staying with me, x george **


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

**A/N The final chapter, with happy endings because I like that. Thank you all for staying with me, xxx george**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Mrs Carson checked the guestrooms one last time. Only three they had, very modest but clean and comfortable. And more important; all three rooms were already booked. The shabby King's Arms pub had been transformed into a highly popular place, and now even had guestrooms like it used to have over thirty years ago. The then owner had decided to close up the rooms, he felt he couldn't compete with the more luxury hotels, but Mr and Mrs Carson believed a more simple and less expensive place to stay a night, near the train station, would have a chance. And it looked they were proven right. The pub's new shiny reputation as a well-ran place, with good food and drinks and excellent service helped a lot.

Elsie and Charles were busy counting linens and checking the supplies, supervising maids and keeping the books like they did at Downton, but the big difference was they were now working for themselves and they enjoyed it immensely.

Satisfied with the state of the rooms, Elsie went to their small office behind the bar to find her husband.

'It's perfect, Charles. Let them come in,' she smiled happily.

'If you say so, love. There's been another request for the day room nr two will be vacated, you think you can manage that?'

'Of course we will. Lily is a good help, you did well to hire her.'

'If I remember correctly, you told me to hire her.'

'I didn't tell you!'

'Oh, but you did my dearest Mrs Carson. I know how to take a hint you know.'

She looked a bit guilty, but he laughed and pulled her on his lap. 'This is our place, Elsie. No need to treat me like the king of the downstairs anymore. Household matters are your business, just tell me what to order, who to hire and what to pay for. It's ridiculous my signature is needed for every new tea-towel anyway.'

She chuckled. 'Dear me Charles, did I just hear you defend women's rights?'

He smiled and kissed her fondly. 'That's what being married to you does to me, love. Knocking some common sense into me. And speaking of women's rights, what's that I hear about Isobel's new campaign?'

'It's about nurse Roberts, who caught the wedding bouquet. That's a story of its own, you don't want to hear the details now, believe me. I'll tell you about it sometime.'

'I'm intrigued, but if you say so. Now love, you hire maids and order linens as much as you need and I'll sign the bills. Don't worry.'

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. 'You're the sweetest man, have I ever told you that?'

o-o-o-o-o-o

'Shall we have dinner at the pub tonight?' Isobel asked her husband.

'The King's Arms, you mean? Well, I've heard Elsie has hired someone who can actually cook, so I'm alright with that.'

Isobel laughed. 'Elsie has many qualities, but she's completely useless in a kitchen. Did you know Beryl Patmore tried to teach her? Oh, I wish I could have been there, like a fly on the wall. Beryl says Elsie is the only person she knows who'd manage to let water burn. It's a good thing they have a pub, or Charles would starve to death, she said.'

'And are you sure the Crawley family won't faint when they find out about you having dinner at the pub?'

It was disguised as a joke, but Richard knew there had been harsh words between Isobel and Robert about her visiting Elsie at her new work place.

'Mrs Carson is my friend, Robert!' she had said.

'Mrs Carson is a decent enough woman I suppose, but I don't like the idea of the next Earl of Grantham's grandmother hanging around in public houses!'

'Good heavens, you make it sound like I am dwelling in bars and drinking beer! The King's Arms is a respectable place. And Robert, I am not just George's grandmother. I am also Mrs Clarkson, the doctor's wife and I am Isobel, my own person. And Isobel loves her friend Elsie Carson, a decent woman who runs a decent inn, and wants to visit her. What's wrong with that?'

'Just that I don't like you to be seen...' Robert began but Isobel cut him off. 'To be seen in the company of a decent woman who runs a decent public house?'

'That's not what I mean!' he protested.

'Then what exactly do you mean?' she snapped.

'I mean…' he began, but then paused.

'Well, it doesn't matter, because you will do as you please and you're right, Isobel. I'm sorry. It would seem even my mother is better at accepting that things change than I am.'

So she smiled at Richard and told him that, while Robert wasn't exactly cheering at the thought, he was unlikely to faint about it. 'He is finally thawing a bit. He misses Carson as a person of course, but he had to admit the house runs just as smoothly under Mr Hudson and Mrs Bates, and in the end that's all that matters. And Carson still selects the wines because Mr Hudson calls him when he isn't sure about it, did you know that?'

He chuckled at that.

'So in the end nothing has changed at the Abbey?'

She shook her head.

'Not so much for Robert, but Elsie is terribly missed by Tom Branson and his daughter. He told me yesterday when I was visiting George.'

'I feel sorry for the lad,' Richard mused. 'He must feel terribly lonely at times... You know what? Let's have dinner at Elsie's tomorrow, and we'll invite him to join us.'

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. 'You're the sweetest man, have I ever told you that?'

o-o-o-o-o

The next evening they had dinner at the King's Arms, accompanied by Tom Branson and even little Sybbie. Monday was a slow night, so Mrs Carson had ample time to take her surrogate granddaughter to the garden, to pick flowers and kitchen herbs. All three of them smiled while watching the scene from behind the window.

'She is the perfect granny.' Isobel said and Tom nodded. 'Oh, Cora is just as fond of Sybbie, but Elsie is the kind of gran my own mother would have been. My parents are both dead, so I asked Elsie if she would have Sybbie and me as her surrogate grandchild and son, and she agreed.'

Ian had just brought them their after dinner coffee, when Elsie and Sybbie returned from the garden.

'Elsie, may I give these to Wose?'

'Yes love, and these as well. She will be happy because she needs them in the kitchen.'

'We have hewbs for you, Wose!'

Rose, the cook expressed her thanks to the girl and Elsie said;

'Now, you take these to your Aunt Isobel, can you do that?'

'Couwse I can,' Sybbie said confidentially and walked up to Isobel on short chubby legs.

'Auntie Isobel, these are fow you!' she exclaimed and presented Isobel with a bouquet of buttercups and forget-me-nots.

'They're the prettiest flowers I've ever seen,' Isobel said and cuddled the girl.

A big yawn was her answer and Tom chuckled and lifted her in his arms.

'Bedtime for you, little lady! Say goodnight to aunt Isobel and uncle Richard, and we'll go give Elsie and Carson a kiss, alright?'

'Yes daddy,' she said, almost asleep.

Tom and his daughter had gone home and Elsie and Charles joined Isobel and Richard at their table for a glass of port and cheese. A few regulars at the bar were entertained by Ian.

Isobel raised her glass.

'I want to propose a toast to Matthew,' she said.

They all raised their glasses. 'To Matthew.'

'You know,' Isobel continued, 'when he died, I thought I died as well. My husband was dead, all my children were dead. I should be dead, too. Only I wasn't. I was desperate, I didn't know why I had to live, why I had to suffer being alive. That's how I felt. My dearest Richard understood and he saved me by calling for my dear Elsie. And now we're all here, as happy as can be.'

'Let's not forget Mr Grigg', Richard remarked. 'Elsie did the right thing by bringing him to Crawley house. Isobel got to her feet again, Mr Grigg got well and in the end Charles realised he had a wonderful woman waiting for him.'

'You are absolutely right. A toast to Mr Grigg,' Charles said and raised his glass.

o-o-o-o-o

**THE END**


End file.
